BIB  FRANCIS  DRAKE. 


flDafeers  of  Distort 


Queen    Elizabeth 


BY 

JACOB    ABBOTT 


WITH  ENGRAVINGS 


NEW  YORK  AND  LONDON 

HARPER    &    BROTHERS    PUBLISHERS 

1904 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  one  thousand 
eight  hundred  and  forty-nine,  by 

HARPER  &  BROTHERS, 

in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  Southern  District 
of  New  York. 


Copyright,  1876,  by  JACOB  ABBOTT. 


PREFACE. 


THE  author  of  this  series  has  made  it  his  spe- 
cial object  to  confine  himself  very  strictly,  even 
in  the  most  minute  details  which  he  records,  to 
historic  truth.  The  narratives  are  not  tales 
founded  upon  history,  but  history  itself,  with- 
out any  embellishment  or  any  deviations  from 
the  strict  truth,  so  far  as  it  can  now  be  discov- 
ered by  an  attentive  examination  of  the  annals 
written  at  the  time  when  the  events  them- 
selves occurred.  In  writing  the  narratives, 
the  author  has  endeavored  to  avail  himself  of 
the  best  sources  of  information  which  this 
country  affords ;  and  though,  of  course,  there 
must  be  in  these  volumes,  as  in  all  historical 
accounts,  more  or  less  of  imperfection  and  er- 
ror, there  is  no  intentional  embellishment. 
Nothing  is  stated,  not  even  the  most  minute 


Till  P  B  E  F  A  0  B. 

and  apparently  imaginary  details,  without  what 
was  deemed  good  historical  authority.  The 
readers,  therefore,  may  rely  upon  the  record 
as  the  truth,  and  nothing  but  the  truth,  so  far 
as  an  honest  purpose  and  a  careful  examina 
tion  have  been  effectual  in  ascertaining  it. 


CONTENTS. 


Cuptcr  Fig* 

i.  ELIZABETH'S  MOTHER 13 

II.    THE    CHILDHOOD   OF    A    PRINCESS 39 

III.  LADY    JANE  GREY 57 

IV.  THE   SPANISH   MATCH 81 

V.    ELIZABETH    IN    THE    TOWER 100 

VI.    ACCESSION    TO    THE    THRONE 120 

VII.    THE    WAR   IN    SCOTLAND 141 

viii.  ELIZABETH'S   LOVERS 161 

IX.    PERSONAL  CHARACTER 187 

X.    THE    INVINCIBLE    ARMADA 208 

XI.    THE    EARL    OF    ESSEX 232 

XII.   THE   CONCLUSION  . .                                                           .  260 


ENGRAVINGS. 


PORTRAIT  OF  DRAKE... Ft oritl.vpiece. 

PORTRAIT  OF  HENRY  VIII 16 

PORTRAIT  OF  ANNE  BOLE YN 20 

GROUP  OF  CHRISTENING  GIFTS 25 

TOWER  OF  LONDON 31 

PORTRAIT  OK  KDWARD  VI. 44 

LADY  JANE  GREY  AT  STUDY 63 

PORTRAIT  OP  PHILIP  OF  SPAIN 84 

ELIZABETH  IN  THE  TOWER 112 

ELIZABETH'S  PROGRESS  TO  LONDON 135 

THE  FRITH  OF  FORTH,  WITH  LEITH  AND  EDINBURGH 

IN  THE  DISTANCE 156 

LEICESTER 169 

THE  BARGES  ON  THE  RIVER. 182 

PORTRAIT  OF  QUEEN  ELIZABETH 203 

THE  INVINCIBLE  ARMADA 229 

THE  HOUSE  OF  THE  EARL  OF  ESSEX 242 

ELIZABETH  IN  HER  LAST  HOURS 270 

BEAD  OF  JAMES  I 275 

ELIZABETH'S  TOMB..  .  279 


QflEEN  ELIZABETH 

CHAPTER    I. 
ELIZABETH'S   MOTHER. 

areenwich.  The  hospital 

FT1RAVELERS,  in  ascending  the  Thames 
-*-  by  the  steamboat  from  Rotterdam,  on 
their  return  from  an  excursion  to  the  Rhine, 
have  often  their  attention  strongly  attracted  by 
what  appears  to  be  a  splendid  palace  on  the 
banks  of  the  river  at  Greenwich.  The  edifice 
is  not  a  palace,  however,  but  a  hospital,  or, 
rather,  a  retreat  where  the  worn  out,  maimed, 
and  crippled  veterans  of  the  English  navy  spend 
the  remnant  of  their  days  in  comfort  and  peace, 
on  pensions  allowed  them  by  the  government  in 
whose  service  they  have  spent  their  strength 
or  lost  their  limbs.  The  magnificent  buildings 
of  the  hospital  stand  on  level  land  near  the  river. 
Behind  them  there  is  a  beautiful  park,  which 
extends  over  the  undulating  and  rising  ground 
in  the  rear  ;  and  on  the  summit  of  one  of  the 
eminence?  there  is  the  Camous  Greenwich  Ob> 


14  QUBBN    ELIZABKTH  [153A 

ttroeowich  OtMerratory.  Mmnnr  of  taking  ttm* 

Borvatory,  on  the  precision  of  whose  quadrant* 
and  micrometers  depend  those  calculations  by 
which  the  navigation  of  the  world  is  guided. 
The  most  unconcerned  and  careless  spectator 
w  interested  in  the  manner  in  which  the  ships 
which  throng  the  river  all  the  way  from  G  reen- 
wich  to  London,  "  take  their  time"  from  this 
observatory  before  setting  sail  for  distant  seas. 
From  the  top  of  a  cupola  surmounting  the  edi- 
fice, a  slender  pole  ascends,  with  a  black  ball  upon 
it,  so  constructed  as  to  slide  up  and  down  for  a 
few  feet  upon  the  pole.  When  the  hour  of  12  M. 
approaches,  the  ball  slowly  rises  to  within  a  few 
inches  of  the  top,  warning  the  ship-masters  in 
the  river  to  be  ready  with  their  chronometers, 
to  observe  and  note  the  precise  instant  of  its 
fall.  When  a  few  seconds  only  remain  of  the 
time,  the  ball  ascends  the  remainder  of  the  dis- 
tance by  a  very  deliberate  motion,  and  then 
drops  suddenly  when  the  instant  arrives.  The 
ihips  depart  on  their  several  destinations,  and 
or  months  afterward  whun  thousands  of  miiee 
iway  they  depend  for  their  safety  in  dark  and 
stormy  nights,  and  among  dangerous  reefs  and 
rocky  shores,  on  the  nice  approximation  to  oor« 
reotness  in  the  note  of  time  which  this  descend 
ing  ball  had  given  them. 


POMRATT  OF  HEN**  VIII. 


1533.]        ELIZABETH'S   MOTHER.  17 

Henry  the  Eighth.  Hi*  character.  His  six  wtra*. 

This  is  Greenwich,  as  it  exists  at  the  present 
Jay.  At  the  time  when  the  events  occurred 
which  are  to  be  related  in  this  narrative,  it  was 
most  known  on  account  of  a  royal  palace  which 
was  situated  there.  This  palace  was  the  resi- 
dence of  the  then  queen  consort  of  England. 
The  king  reigning  at  that  time  was  Henry  the 
Eighth.  He  was  an  unprincipled  -^d  cruel 
tyrant,  and  the  chief  business  of  his  mo  seem- 
ed to  be  selecting  and  marrying  new  queens, 
making  room  for  each  succeeding  one  by  dis- 
carding, divorcing,  or  beheading  her  predeces- 
sor. There  were  six  of  them  in  all,  and,  with 
one  exception,  the  history  of  each  one  is  a  dis- 
tinct and  separate,  but  dreadful  tragedy.  A* 
there  were  so  many  of  them,  and  they  figured 
as  queens  each  for  so  short  a  period,  they  are 
commonly  designated  in  history  by  their  per- 
sonal family  names,  and  even  in  these  names 
there  is  a  great  similarity.  There  were  three 
Catharines,  two  Annes,  and  a  Jane.  The  only 
one  who  lived  and  died  in  peace,  respected  and 
beloved  to  the  end,  was  the  Jane. 

Queen  Elizabeth,  the  subject  of  this  narra- 
tive, was  the  daughter  of  the  second  wife  in  thi* 
ftrange  succession,  and  her  mother  was  one  of 
th«  Annes.  Her  name  in  full  was  Anne  Bs>- 
26—2 


18  QUEEN   ELIZABETH. 

Anne  Boleyn.  Catharine  of  Aragon.  Henry  discard*  bar 

leyn.  She  was  young  and  very  beautiful,  and 
Henry,  to  prepare  the  way  for  making  her  his 
wife,  divorced  his  first  queen,  or  rather  declared 
ins  marriage  with  her  null  and  void,  because 
•he  had  been,  before  he  married  her,  the  wife 
of  his  brother.  Her  name  was  Catharine  of 
Aragon.  She  was,  while  connected  with  him, 
a  faithful,  true,  and  affectionate  wife.  She  was 
a  Catholic.  The  Catholic  rules  are  very  strict 
in  respect  to  the  marriage  of  relatives,  and  a 
special  dispensation  from  the  pope  was  neces- 
sary to  authorize  marriage  in  such  a  case  as 
that  of  Henry  and  Catharine.  This  dispensa- 
tion had,  however,  been  obtained,  and  Catharine 
had,  in  reliance  upon  it,  consented  to  become 
Henry's  wife.  When,  however,  she  was  no 
longer  young  and  beautiful,  and  Henry  had  be- 
come enamored  of  Anne  Boleyn,  who  was  so, 
he  discarded  Catharine,  and  espoused  the  beau- 
tiful girl  in  her  stead.  He  wished  the  pope  to 
annul  his  dispensation,  which  would,  of  course, 
annul  the  marriage ;  and  because  the  pontiff 
refused,  and  all  the  efforts  of  Henry's  govern- 
ment were  unavailing  to  move  him,  he  aban- 
doned the  Catholic  faith,  and  established  an  in- 
dependent Protestant  church  in  England,  whose 
supreme  authority  would  annul  the  marriaga 


PORTRAIT  OF  ANNE  HOLEYN. 


1533.]  ELIZABETH'S  MOTHER.         21 

Origin  of  the  Engfoh  Church.  Henry  marie*  Anna  Boleyn 

Thus,  in  a  great  measure,  came  the  Reforma 
tion  in  England.  The  Catholics  reproach  u, 
and,  it  must  be  confessed,  with  some  justice, 
with  the  ignominiousness  of  its  origin. 

The  course  which  things  thus  took  created  a 
great  deal  of  delay  in  the  formal  annulling  of 
the  marriage  with  Catharine,  which  Henry  was 
too  impatient  and  imperious  to  bear.  He  would 
not  wait  for  the  decree  of  divorce,  but  took  Anne 
Boleyn  for  his  wife  before  his  previous  connec- 
tion was  made  void.  He  said  he  was  privately 
married  to  her.  This  he  had,  as  he  maintained, 
a  right  to  do,  for  he  considered  his  first  mar- 
riage as  void,  absolutely  and  of  itself,  without 
any  decree.  When,  at  length,  the  decree  was 
finally  passed,  he  brought  Anne  Boleyn  forward 
as  his  queen,  and  introduced  her  as  such  to  En- 
gland and  to  the  world  by  a  genuine  marriage 
and  a  most  magnificent  coronation.  The  peo- 
ple of  England  pitied  poor  Catharine,  but  they 
joined  very  cordially,  notwithstanding,  in  wel- 
coming the  youthful  and  beautiful  lady  who 
was  to  take  her  place.  All  London  gave  itself 
up  to  festivities  and  rejoicings  on  the  occasion 
of  these  nuptials.  Immediately  after  this  th« 
young  queen  retired  to  her  palace  in  Greenwich, 
and  in  two  or  three  months  afterward  bttla 


22  QUEEN   ELIZABETH.          [1533 

Blrtk  of  Ell«»bci«h.  Ceremony  of  chrijtenin$ 

Elizabeth  was  born.     Her  birth-day  was  the 
7th  of  September,  1533. 

The  mother  may  have  loved  the  babe,  but 
Henry  himself  was  sadly  disappointed  that  his 
child  was  not  a  son.  Notwithstanding  her  sex, 
however,  she  was  a  personage  of  great  distinc- 
tion from  her  very  birth,  as  all  the  realm  looked 
upon  her  as  heir  to  the  crown.  Henry  was 
himself,  at  this  time,  very  fond  of  Anne  Bo- 
leyn,  though  his.  feelings  afterward  were  entire- 
ly changed.  He  determined  on  giving  to  the 
infant  a  very  splendid  christening.  The  usage 
hi  the  Church  of  England  is  to  make  the  chris- 
tening of  a  child  not  merely  a  solemn  religious 
ceremony,  but  a  great  festive  occasion  of  con- 
gratulations and  rejoicing.  The  unconscious 
subject  of  the  ceremony  is  taken  to  the  church. 
Certain  near  and  distinguished  friends,  gentle- 
men and  ladies,  appear  as  godfathers  and  god- 
mothers, as  they  are  termed,  to  the  child.  They, 
in  the  ceremony,  are  considered  as  presenting 
tho  infant  for  consecration  to  Christ,  and  as  be. 
coming  responsible  for  its  future  initiation  into 
tho  Christian  faith.  They  are  hence  sometimes 
called  sponsors.  These  sponsors  are  supposed 
to  take,  from  the  time  of  the  baptism  forward, 
*  strong  interest  in  all  that  pertains  to  the  wo*« 


1533.]       ELIZABETH'S  MOTHER.  23 

Baptism  of  Elizabeth. 


fare  of  their  little  oharge,  and  they  usually  man- 
ifest this  interest  by  presents  -on  the  day  of  the 
christening.  These  things  are  all  conducted 
with  considerable  ceremony  and  parade  in  ordi- 
nary oases,  occurring  in  private  life ;  and  when 
a  princess  is  to  be  baptized,  all,  even  the  most 
minute  details  of  the  ceremony,  assume  a  great 
importance,  and  the  whole  soene  becomes  one 
of  great  pomp  and  splendor. 

The  babe,  in  this  case,  was  conveyed  to  the 
church  in  a  grand  procession.  The  mayor  and 
other  3ivio  authorities  in  London  came  down 
to  Greenwich  in  barges,  tastefully  ornamented, 
to  join  in  the  ceremony  The  lords  and  ladies 
of  King  Henry's  court  were  also  there,  in  at- 
tendance  at  the  palace.  When  all  were  assem- 
bled, and  every  thing  was  ready,  the  procession 
moved  from  the  palace  to  the  church  with  great 
pomp.  The  road,  all  the  way,  was  carpeted 
with  green  rushes,  spread  upon  the  ground. 
Over  this  road  the  little  infant  was  borne  by 
®ne  of  her  godmothers.  She  was  wrapped  in 
a  mantle  of  purple  velvet,  with  a  long  train  aj> 
pended  to  it,  which  was  trimmed  with  ermine, 
a  very  costly  kind  of  fur,  used  in  England  as  a 
badge  of  authority.  This  train  was  borne  by 
lords  and  ladies  of  high  rank,  who  were  appoint- 


94  QUEEN    ELIZABETH.  [1533 

Tr*im-bearer».  The  church.  The  rilTor  fom 

cd  for  the  purpose  by  the  king,  and  who  deemed 
their  office  a  very  distinguished  honor.  Besides 
these  train-bearers,  there  were  four  lords,  who 
walked  two  on  each  side  of  tne  child,  and  who 
held  over  her  a  magnificent  canopy.  Other  per- 
sonages of  high  rank  and  station  followed,  bear- 
ing various  insignia  and  emblems,  such  as  by 
the  ancient  customs  of  England  are  employed 
on  these  occasions,  and  all  dressed  sumptuous- 
ly in  gorgeous  robes,  and  wearing  the  badges* 
and  decorations  pertaining  to  their  rank  or  the 
offices  they  held.  Vast  crowds  of  spectators 
lined  the  way,  and  gazed  upon  the  scene. 

On  arriving  at  the  church,  they  found  the  in- 
terior splendidly  decorated  for  the  occasion.  Its 
walls  were  lined  throughout  with  tapestry,  and 
in  the  center  was  a  crimson  canopy,  under  which 
was  placed  a  large  silver  font,  containing  the 
water  with  which  the  child  was  to  be  baptized. 
The  ceremony  was  performed  by  Cranmer,  the 
archbishop  of  Canterbury,  which  is  the  office 
of  the  highest  dignitary  of  the  English  Church 
After  it  was  performed,  the  procession  returned 
as  it  came,  only  now  there  was  an  addition  of 
four  persons  of  high  rank,  who  followed  the  child 
with  the  presents  intended  for  her  by  the  god- 
fathers and  godmothers.  These  presents  con- 


1533.J       ELIZABETH'S   MOTHER.  27 

rhe  presonte.  Name  of  the  Infant  princeM 

•isted  of  cups  and  bowls,  of  beautiful  workman- 
•hip,  some  of  silver  gilt,  and  some  of  solid  gold. 
They  were  very  costly,  though  not  prized  much 
yet  by  the  unconscious  infant  for  whom  they 
were  intended.  She  went  and  came,  in  the 
midst  of  this  gay  and  joyous  procession,  little 
imagining  into  what  a  restless  and  unsatisfying 
life  all  this  pageantry  and  splendor  were  usher- 
ing her. 

They  named  the  child  Elizabeth,  from  her 
grandmother.  There  have  been  many  queens 
of  that  name,  but  Queen  Elizabeth  of  England 
became  so  much  more  distinguished  than  any 
other,  that  that  name  alone  has  become  her  usu- 
al designation.  Her  family  name  was  Tudor. 
As  she  was  never  married — for,  though  her  life 
was  one  perpetual  scene  of  matrimonial  scheme* 
and  negotiations,  she  lived  and  died  a  maiden 
lady — she  has  been  sometimes  called  the  Virgin 
Queen,  and  one  of  the  states  of  this  Union,  Vir- 
ginia, receives  its  name  from  this  designation 
of  Elizabeth.  She  is  also  often  familiarly  called 
Queen  Bess. 

Making  little  Elizabeth  presents  of  go.d  and 
silver  plate,  and  arranging  splendid  pageants 
for  her,  were  not  the  only  plans  for  her  aggran- 
dizement which  were  formed  during  the  period 


28  QUEEN   ELIZABETH.          [1536 

DiMbeth  made  Prince**  of  Wale*.  Matrimonial  scheme* 

of  her  infantile  unconsciousness.  The  king,  her 
father,  first  had  an  act  of  Parliament  passed. 
solemnly  recognizing  and  confirming  her  claim 
as  heir  to  the  crown,  and  the  title  of  Princess  of 
Wales  was  formally  conferred  upon  her.  When 
these  things  were  done,  Henry  began  to  consid- 
er how  he  could  best  promote  his  own  political 
schemes  by  forming  an  engagement  of  marriage 
for  her,  and,  when  she  was  only  about  two  years 
of  age,  he  offered  her  to  the  King  of  France  as 
the  future  wife  of  one  of  his  sons,  on  certain 
conditions  of  political  service  which  he  wished 
him  to  perform.  But  the  King  of  France  would 
not  accede  to  the  terms,  and  so  this  plan  was 
abandoned.  Elizabeth  was,  however,  notwith- 
standing this  failure,  an  object  of  universal  in- 
terest and  attention,  as  the  daughter  of  a  very 
powerful  monarch,  and  the  heir  to  his  crown. 
Her  life  opened  with  very  bright  and  serene 
prospects  of  future  greatness ;  but  all  these  pros- 
pects were  soon  apparently  cut  off  by  a  very 
heavy  cloud  which  arose  to  darken  her  sky. 
This  cloud  was  the  sudden  and  dreadful  fall 
and  ruin  of  her  mother. 

Queen  Anne  Boleyn  was  originally  a  maid 
of  honor  to  Quoen  Catharine,  and  became  ac- 
quainted with  King  Henry  and  gained  his  af- 


1536.]        ELIZABETH'S  MOTHER.  US 

Jane  DUJMMM  The  toanuunmt  The  klng'i  tuip  toot 

fections  while  she  was  acting  in  that  capacity 
When  she  became  queen  herself,  she  had,  of 
course,  her  own  maids  of  honor,  and  among 
them  was  one  named  Jane  Seymour.  Jane 
was  a  beautiful  and  accomplished  lady,  and  in 
the  end  she  supplanted  her  mistress  and  queen 
in  Henry's  affections,  just  as  Anne  herself  had 
supplanted  Catharine.  The  king  had  removed 
Catharine  to  make  way  for  Anne,  by  annulling 
his  marriage  with  her  on  account  of  their  rela- 
tionship: what  way  could  he  contrive  now  to 
remove  Anne,  so  as  to  make  way  for  Jane  ? 

He  began  to  entertain,  or  to  pretend  to  en- 
tertain, feelings  of  jealousy  and  suspicion  that 
Anne  was  unfaithful  to  him.  One  day,  at  a 
sort  of  tournament  in  the  park  of  the  royal  pal- 
ace at  Greenwich,  when  a  great  crowd  of  gayly- 
dressed  ladies  and  gentlemen  were  assembled 
to  witness  the  spectacle,  the  queen  dropped  her 
handkerchief.  A  gentleman  whom  the  king  had 
suspected  of  being  one  of  her  favorites  picked  it 
•p.  He  did  not  immediately  restore  it  to  her 
There  was,  besides,  something  in  the  air  and 
manner  of  the  gentleman,  and  in  the  attendant 
circumstances  of  the  case,  which  the  king's  mind 
seized  upon  as  evidence  of  criminal  gallantry 
between  the  parties.  He  was,  or  at  least 


30  QUEEN  ELIZABETH.          [1536. 

Qmeen  Anne  arrested.  She  U  *«nt  to  the  Towe*. 

tended  to  be,  in  a  great  rage.  He  left  the  field 
immediately  and  went  to  London.  The  tour* 
naraent  was  broken  up  in  confusion,  the  queen 
was  seized  by  the  king's  orders,  conveyed  to  her 
palace  in  Greenwich,  and  shut  up  in  her  cham- 
ber, with  a  lady  who  had  always  been  her  rival 
and  enemy  to  guard  her.  She  was  in  great 
consternation  and  sorrow,  but  she  declared  most 
solemnly  that  she  was  innocent  of  any  crime, 
and  had  always  been  true  and  faithful  to  the 
king. 

The  next  day  she  was  taken  from  her  palace 
at  Greenwich  up  the  river,  probably  in  a  barge 
well  guarded  by  armed  men,  to  the  Tower  of 
London.  The  Tower  is  an  ancient  and  very  ex- 
tensive castle,  consisting  of  a  great  number  of 
buildings  inclosed  within  a  high  wall.  It  is  in 
the  lower  part  of  London,  on  the  bank  of  the 
Thames,  with  a  flight  of  stairs  leading  down  to 
the  river  from  a  great  postern  gate.  The  un- 
happy queen  was  landed  at  these  stairs  and  con- 
veyed into  the  castle,  and  shut  up  in  a  gloomy 
apartment,  with  walls  of  stone  and  windowt 
barricaded  with  strong  bars  of  iron.  There 
were  four  or  five  gentlemen,  attendants  upon 
the  queen  in  her  palace  at  Greenwich,  whore 
the  king  suspected,  or  pretended  to  suspect,  r.f 


1536.J       ELIZABETH'S  MOTHER.  33 

Bufferiag8  of  the  queen.  Her  mental  di*tre«* 

being  her  accomplices  in  crime,  that  were  ar- 
rested at  the  same  time  with  her  and  closely 
confined. 

When  the  poor  queen  was  introduced  into 
her  dungeon,  she  fell  on  her  knees,  and,  in  an 
agony  of  terror  and  despair,  she  implored  God 
to  help  her  in  this  hour  of  her  extremity,  and 
most  solemnly  called  him  to  witness  that  she 
was  innocent  of  the  crime  imputed  to  her  charge 
Seeking  thus  a  refuge  in  God  calmed  and  com- 
posed her  in  some  small  degree  ;  but  when, 
again,  thoughts  of  the  imperious  and  implacable 
temper  of  her  husband  came  over  her,  of  the 
impetuousness  of  his  passions,  of  the  certainty 
that  he  wished  her  removed  out  of  the  way  in 
order  that  room  might  be  made  for  her  rival, 
and  then,  when  her  distracted  mind  turned  to 
the  forlorn  and  helpless  condition  of  her  little 
daughter  Elizabeth,  now  scarcely  three  years 
old,  her  fortitude  and  self-possession  forsook  her 
entirely ;  she  sank  half  insane  upon  her  bed,  in 
long  and  uncontrollable  paroxysms  of  sobs  and 
tears,  alternating  with  still  more  uncontroJL* 
able  and  frightful  bursts  of  hysterical  laugh- 
ter. 

The  king  sent  a  commission  to  take  her  ax- 
tminatkm.     At  the  same  time,  he  ureed  her. 

26—3 


34  QUEEN   ELIZABETH.          [1536 


on  of  Anne.  Her  letter  to  the  Ua« 


by  the  persons  whom  he  sent,  to  confess  hot 
guilt,  promising  her  that,  if  she  did  so,  her  life 
should  be  spared.  She,  however,  protested  her 
innocence  with  the  utmost  firmness  and  con- 
rtancy  .  She  begged  earnestly  to  be  allowed  tt 
see  the  king,  and,  when  this  was  refused,  she 
wrote  a  letter  to  him,  which  still  remains,  and 
which  expresses  very  strongly  the  acuteness  >f 
her  mental  sufferings. 

In  this  letter,  she  said  that  she  was  so  dis- 
tressed and  bewildered  by  the  king's  displeas- 
ure and  her  imprisonment,  that  she  hardly 
knew  what  to  think  or  to  say.  She  assured 
him  that  she  had  always  been  faithful  and  true 
to  him,  and  begged  that  he  would  not  cast  an 
indelible  stain  upon  her  own  fair  fame  and  that 
of  her  innocent  and  helpless  child  by  such  un- 
just  and  groundless  imputations.  She  begged 
him  to  let  her  have  a  fair  trial  by  impartial  per- 
sons,  who  would  weigh  the  evidence  against  her 
in  a  just  and  equitable  manner.  She  was  sure 
that  by  this  course  her  innocence  would  be  es- 
tablished, and  he  himself,  and  all  mankind, 
would  see  that  she  had  been  most  unjustly  ac- 
cused. 

But  if,  on  the  other  hand,  she  added,  the  king 
had  determined  on  her  destruction,  in  order  t* 


1536.]       ELIZABETH'S  MOTHER.  35 

Aaoe't  t»Ho w-prLson«r«.  They  »re  executed. 

remove  an  obstacle  in  the  way  of  his  possession 
of  a  new  object  of  love,  she  prayed  that  God 
would  forgive  him  and  all  her  enemies  for  BO 
great  a  sin,  and  not  call  him  to  account  for  it 
at  the  last  day.  She  urged  him,  at  all  events, 
to  spare  the  lives  of  the  four  gentlemen  who 
d  been  accused,  as  she  assured  him  they  were 
oily  innocent  of  the  crime  laid  to  their  charge, 
begging  him,  if  he  had  ever  loved  the  name  of 
Anne  Boleyn,  to  grant  this  her  last  request. 
She  signed  her  letter  his  "  most  loyal  and  ever 
faithful  wife,"  and  dated  it  from  her  "  doleful 
prison  in  the  Tower." 

The  four  gentlemen  were  promised  that  their 
lives  should  be  spared  if  they  would  confess  their 
guilt.  One  of  them  did,  accordingly,  admit  his 
guilt,  and  the  others  persisted  to  the  end  in  firm- 
ly denying  it.  They  who  think  Anne  Boleyn 
was  innocent,  suppose  that  the  one  who  con- 
fessed did  it  as  the  most  likely  mode  of  avert- 
ing destruction,  as  men  have  often  been  known, 
under  the  influence  of  fear,  to  confess  crimes 
of  which  it  was  afterward  proved  they  could 
not  have  been  guilty.  If  this  was  his  motive, 
it  was  of  no  avail.  The  four  persons  accused, 
after  a  very  informal  trial,  in  which  nothing  waa 
really  proved  against  tbem,  were  condemned. 


36  QUEEN   ELIZABETH.  [1536 

Anna  tried  and  condemned.  She  protects  her  innoceno* 

apparently  to  please  the  king,  and  were  execu- 
ted together. 

Three  days  after  this  the  queen  herself  wa« 
brought  to  trial  before  the  peers.  The  number 
of  peers  of  the  realm  in  England  at  this  time 
was  fifty-three.  Only  twenty-six  were  present 
at  the  trial.  The  king  is  charged  with  making 
such  arrangements  as  to  prevent  the  attendance 
of  those  who  would  be  unwilling  to  pass  sen- 
tence of  condemnation.  At  any  rate,  those  who 
did  attend  professed  to  be  satisfied  of  the  guilt 
of  the  accused,  and  they  sentenced  her  to  be 
burned,  or  to  be  beheaded,  at  the  pleasure  of  the 
king.  He  decided  that  she  should  be  beheaded. 

The  execution  was  to  take  place  in  a  little 
green  area  within  the  Tower.  The  platform 
was  erected  here,  and  the  block  placed  upon  it, 
the  whole  being  covered  with  a  black  cloth,  as 
usual  on  such  occasions.  On  the  morning  of 
the  fatal  day,  Anne  sent  for  the  constable  of 
the  Tower  to  come  in  and  receive  her  dying 
protestations  that  she  was  innocent  of  the  crimed 
alleged  against  her.  She  told  him  that  she  un- 
derstood that  she  was  not  to  die  until  12  o'clock, 
and  that  she  was  sorry  for  it,  for  she  wished  to 
have  it  over.  The  constable  told  her  the  pain 
would  be  very  slight  and  momentary.  "  Yes," 


1536.]          -ELIZABETH'S    MOTHER.  37 

lime's  execution.  Disposition  of  the  body 

«he  rejoined,  "  I  am  told  that  a  very  skillful 
executioner  is  provided,  and  my  neck  is  very 
slender." 

At  the  appointed  hour  she  was  led  out  into 
the  court-yard  where  the  execution  was  to  take 
place.  There  were  about  twenty  persons  pres- 
ent, all  officers  of  state  or  of  the  city  of  London. 
The  bodily  suffering  attendant  upon  the  execu- 
tion was  very  soon  over,  for  the  slender  neck 
was  severed  at  a  single  blow,  and  probably  all 
sensibility  to  pain  immediately  ceased.  Stiil, 
the  lips  and  the  eyes  were  observed  to  move 
and  quiver  for  a  few  seconds  after  the  separa- 
tion of  the  head  from  the  body.  It  was  a  relief, 
however,  to  the  spectators  when  this  strange 
and  unnatural  prolongation  of  the  mysterious 
functions  of  life  came  to  an  end. 

No  coffin  had  been  provided.  They  found, 
however,  an  old  wooden  chest,  made  to  contain 
arrows,  lying  in  one  of  the  apartments  of  the 
tower,  which  they  used  instead.  They  first 
laid  the  decapitated  trunk  within  it,  and  then 
adjusted  the  dissevered  head  to  its  place,  as  if 
vainly  attempting  to  repair  the  irretrievable  in- 
jury they  had  done.  They  hurried  the  body, 
thus  enshrined,  to  its  burial  in  a  chapel,  which 
was  al*o  within  the  tower,  doing  all  with  snob 


38  QUEEN  ELIZABETH.          [1536 

The  king's  brutality.  Elizabeth'!  forlorn  eondltkn. 

dispatch  that  the  whole  was  finished  before  the 
clock  struck  twelve  ;  and  the  next  day  the  un 
feeling  monster  who  was  the  author  oTthis  dread- 
ful deed  was  publicly  married  to  his  new  favor- 
ite, Jane  Seymour. 

The  king  had  not  merely  procured  Anne's 
personal  condemnation ;  he  had  also  obtained  a 
decree  annulling  his  marriage  with  her,  on  the 
ground  of  her  having  been,  as  he  attempted 
to  prove,  previously  affianced  to  another  man 
This  was,  obviously,  a  mere  pretense.  The  ob- 
ject was  to  cut  off  Elizabeth's  rights  to  inherit 
the  crown,  by  making  his  marriage  with  her 
mother  void.  Thus  was  the  little  princess  left 
motherless  and  friendless  when  only  three  years 
old. 


1536.]    CHILDHOOD  OF  A  PRINCESS.        39 

Oinbetb'i  condition  at  the  death  of  her  mother.  Her  r«ddeno» 


CHAPTER  IL 
THE  CHILDHOOD  OF  A  PRINCESS. 

¥71  LIZ  ABE  TH  was  about  three  years  old  at 
•— ^  the  death  of  her  mother.  She  was  a  prin- 
cess, but  she  was  left  in  a  very  forlorn  and  des- 
olate condition.  She  was  not,  however,  entirely 
abandoned.  Her  claims  to  inherit  the  crown 
had  been  set  aside,  but  then  she  was,  as  all  ad- 
mitted, the  daughter  of  the  king,  and  she  must, 
of  course,  be  the  object  of  a  certain  degree  of 
consideration  and  ceremony.  It  would  be  en- 
tirely inconsistent  with  the  notions  of  royal  dig- 
nity which  then  prevailed  to  have  her  treated 
like  an  ordinary  child. 

She  had  a  residence  assigned  her  at  a  place 
called  Hunsdon,  and  was  put  under  the  charge 
of  a  governess  whose  name  was  Lady  Bryan. 
There  is  an  ancient  letter  from  Lady  Bryan, 
still  extant,  which  was  written  to  one  of  the 
king's  officers  about  Elizabeth,  explaining  her 
destitute  condition,  and  asking  for  a  more  suit- 
able supply  for  her  wants.  It  may  entertain 
the  reader  to  see  this  relic,  which  not  only  Ulan- 


40  qi  KEN   ELIZABETH.          [1536 

Letter  of  Lady  Bryan,  Elizabeth'*  goremeM. 

trates  our  little  heroine's  condition,  but  also 
shows  how  great  the  changes  are  which  our  lan- 
guage has  undergone  within  the  last  three  hund 
red  years.     The  letter,  as  here  given,  is  abridg- 
>i  a  little  from  the  original : 

f  H  n  Z.orti  : 

tSSJbeit  rout  Jlortislfp  teas  last  firre,  ft  pleaseo 
jicu  to  »ai?  tbat  I-  sljoulti  not  be  mfstrustful  of  tbe  HI  fug's 
Grace,  not  of  ijour  JLovtisfjfp,  U)ljicj)  tuorti  tons  of  great  com- 
fort  to  me,  anU  emboltienetb  me  noto  to  speak  m%  poor  mfnti. 

Xuto  so  (t  fs,  mi>  Horti,  tbat  mi;  Hatij  Elijabttf)  fs  put 
from  ttje  tiegree  sbe  teas  afore,  anti  tobat  tJegree  ste  (s  at 
noto*  fi  fenoto  not  but  bj?  bearsap.  Cberefore  K  fenoto  not 
boto  to  orUer  ter,  nor  mjself,  nor  none  of  bers  tbat  t  babt 
tbe  rule  of — tbat  fs,  ber  toomen  anti  ber  grooms.  But  fi  be* 
seecb  pott  to  be  goot),  mn  Uorti,  to  ber  anti  to  all  bers,  anti  to 
let  ber  babe  some  ragment ;  for  sbe  bas  neftber  goton,  not 
kfrtle,  nor  no  manner  of  Ifnen,  nor  foresmocfes,  nor  feerctfefs, 
nor  sleebes,  nor  rafls,  nor  botijstftcbets,  nor  mufflers,  nor 
dfggfns.  &ll  tbese  ber  (Grace's  toants  S  babe  tirfben  off  as 
long  as  5  can,  bj  m»  trotb,  but  JJ  can  not  am?  longer.  33e» 
seecbfng  von,  mn  Horti,  tbat  ijou  tufll  see  tijat  l)er  (T.ract 
mag  tabe  tbat  fs  neetiful  for  ber,  anti  tbat  5  maj  fenoto  from 
gou,  fn  torftfng,  boto  I-  sljall  ortier  mrself  totoartis  ber,  anti 
tobateber  fs  tte  ISfng's  ©race's  pleasure  anti  jours,  fn  eberj 
ttfng,  tbat  fi  sball  tio. 

ffSLy  lorti  ^Hr.  Sbelton  tooulti  babe  mg  Hatip  fSlfjabtt| 
to  tifne  anti  sup  at  tbe  boarti  of  estate.  Silas,  mn  Horti,  ft 
(s  not  meet  for  a  cbflti  of  ber  age  to  keep  sucb  rule  j?et.  X 
pronxfse  500,  mv  Horti,  S  tiare  not  tafee  upon  me  to  fteej 

*  Tbat  is,  in  what  light  the  king  and  the  government  wish 
to  have  her  regarded,  and  how  they  wish  her  to  be  treated 


1536]    CHILDHOOD  OF  A  PRINCESS.        41 

Conclusion  of  letter.  Tremble*  and  trial*  of  lufanej 

tier  (n  Dealt!)  anti  stoe  fteep  tfcat  role ;  for  tbere  sbe  *tiall  stt 
Others  meats,  ant)  fruits,  anD  tufnes,  tobfci)  tooulti  be  bart 
tor  me  to  restrain  ber  Cfrace  from  ft  You  fenoto,  mj  ILottJ, 
tbere  Is  no  place  of  correction*  tbere,  anti  stoe  (s  net  too 
gating  to  correct  greatlj.  B  knoin  toell,  anti  stos  be  tfcere,  X 
•fcall  ntbrr  bring  ber  up  to  tj>e  Sing's  Grace's  bonor  nor 
hers,  nor  to  ber  bcaltlj,  nor  HIP  poor  bonestg.  SJt'ljeretore. 
X  beseecb  v«u,  mv  HorO,  tbat  mr  ILaDi)  maij  tabe  a  mess 
of  meat  to  ber  oturt  lotiglng,  biltb  a  gooD  titsb  or  Uno  tbat  Is 
meet  for  ber  (Grace  to  eat  of. 

fH£  HaUj  batb  Itfeetolse  great  pain  toftft  ber  teetft,  anD 
tbcij  come  berg  slotoln  fovti),  anti  tbls  causetl)  me  to  suffer 
ber  (Grace  to  babe  ber  tofll  more  tban  5  tooulTi.  5  trust  to 
ffioD,  anti  ber  teetb  toere  toell  graft,  to  tate  ber  €5race  after 
anotber  fasbfou  tfian  ste  Is  jet,  so  as  £  trust  tbe  Sing's 
Grace  stall  babe  great  comfort  (n  ber  Grace ;  for  sbe  Is  as 
totoarH  a  cbflU,  anti  as  gentle  of  eon&Ittons,  as  eber  5  fcneto 
an?  In  ms  life.  JJesu  preserbe  feer  ©race. 

Gooti  mi;  Hort),  babe  m»  Hatn/s  Grace,  anti  us  ttiat  be 
Drr  poor  servants,  In  your  remembrance. 

This  letter  evinces  that  strange  mixture  of 
state  and  splendor  with  discomfort  and  destitu- 
tion, which  prevailed  very  extensively  in  royal 
households  in  those  early  times.  A  part  of  the 
privation  which  Elizabeth  seems,  from  this  let 
ter,  to  have  endured,  was  doubtless  owing  to  the 
rough  manners  of  the  day ;  but  there  is  no  doubt 
that  she  was  also,  at  least  for  a  time,  in  a  neg 
lected  and  forsaken  condition.  The  new  queen, 
Jane  Seymour,  who  succeeded  Elizabeth's  moth- 

•  That  is,  opportunity  for  correction 


42  QUEEN  ELIZABETH.          [1540 

BMh  at  Kdwwd.  The  king  reconciled  to  hi*  daughter* 

er,  had  a  son  a  year  or  two  after  her  marriage. 
He  was  named  Edward.  Thus  Henry  had 
three  children,  Mary,  Elizabeth,  and  Edward, 
each  one  the  child  of  a  different  wife ;  and  the 
last  of  them,  the  son,  appears  to  have  monopo- 
lized, for  a  time,  the  king's  affection  and  care. 

Still,  the  hostility  which  the  king  had  felt  for 
these  queens  in  succession  was  owing,  as  has 
been  already  said,  to  his  desire  to  remove  them 
out  of  his  way,  that  he  might  be  at  liberty  to 
marry  again;  and  so,  after  the  mothers  were, 
one  after  another,  removed,  the  hostility  itself, 
00  far  as  the  children  were  concerned,  gradually 
subsided,  and  the  king  began  to  look  both  upon 
Mary  and  Elizabeth  with  favor  again.  He 
even  formed  plans  for  marrying  Elizabeth  to 
persons  of  distinction  in  foreign  countries,  and 
he  entered  into  some  negotiations  for  this  pur- 
pose. He  had  a  decree  passed,  too,  at  last,  re- 
versing the  sentence  by  which  the  two  princess- 
9A  were  cut  off  from  an  inheritance  of  the  crown. 
Thus  they  were  restored,  during  their  father7! 
life,  to  their  proper  rank  as  royal  princesses. 

At  last  the  king  died  in  1547,  leaving  only 
these  three  children,  each  one  the  child  of  a  dif- 
ferent wife.  Mary  was  a  maiden  lady,  of  about 
thirty-one  years  of  age.  She  was  a  stern,  an* 


PORTRAIT  OF  EDWARD  VI. 


1545.]  CHILDHOOD  OF  A  PRINCESS.        44 

Death  of  King  Henry.  HU  children 

tere,  hard-hearted  woman,  whom  nobody  loved 
She  was  the  daughter  of  King  Henry's  first  wife, 
Catharine  of  Aragon,  and,  like  her  mother,  wa* 
i  decided  Catholic. 

Next  came  Elizabeth,  who  was  about  four- 
teen years  of  age.  She  was  the  daughter  of 
the  king's  second  wife,  Queen  Anne  Boleyn. 
She  had  been  educated  a  Protestant.  She  waa 
not  pretty,  but  was  a  very  lively  and  sprightly 
child,  altogether  different  in  her  cast  of  charac- 
ter and  in  her  manners  from  her  sister  Mary. 

Then,  lastly,  there  was  Edward,  the  son  of 
Jane  Seymour,  the  third  queen.  He  was  about 
nine  years  of  age  at  his  father's  death.  He  was 
a  boy  of  good  character,  mild  and  gentle  in  his 
disposition,  fond  of  study  and  reflection,  and  a 
general  favorite  with  all  who  knew  him. 

It  was  considered  in  those  days  that  a  king 
might,  in  some  sense,  dispose  of  his  crown  by 
will,  just  as,  at  the  present  time,  a  man  may 
bequeath  his  house  or  his  farm.  Of  course, 
there  were  some  limits  to  this  power,  and  the 
concurrence  of  Parliament  seems  to  have  l»een 
required  to  the  complete  validity  of  such  a  set- 
tlement. King  Henry  the  E  ighth ,  however,  h  ad 
little  difficulty  in  carrying  any  law  through  Par. 
liament  which  he  desire  1  to  have  enacted.  It 


46  QUEEN  ELIZABETH.          [1547. 

KlBf  Heaiys  Tioleoee.  The  order  of  iocMuwio* 

Is  said  that,  on  one  occasion,  when  there  was 
some  delay  about  passing  a  bill  of  his,  he  sent 
for  one  of  the  most  influential  of  the  members 
•f  the  House  of  Commons  to  come  into  his  pres- 
ence The  member  came  and  kneeled  before 
him.  "  Ho,  man !"  said  the  king,  "  and  will 
they  not  suffer  my  bill  to  pass  ?"  He  then  came 
up  and  put  his  hand  upon  the  kneeling  legisla- 
tor's head,  and  added,  "  Get  my  bill  passed  to- 
morrow, or  else  by  to-morrow  this  head  of  yours 
shall  be  off."  The  next  day  the  bill  was  passed 
accordingly. 

King  Henry,  before  he  died,  arranged  the  or- 
der of  succession  to  the  throne  as  follows :  Ed- 
ward was  to  succeed  him ;  but,  as  he  was  a  mi- 
nor, being  then  only  nine  years  of  age,  a  great 
council  of  state,  consisting  of  sixteen  persons  of 
the  highest  rank,  was  appointed  to  govern  the 
kingdom  in  his  name  until  he  should  be  eight- 
een years  of  age,  when  he  was  to  become  king 
in  reality  as  well  as  in  name.  In  case  he 
should  die  without  heirs,  then  Mary,  his  old- 
est sister,  was  to  succeed  him ;  and  if  she  died 
without  heirs,  then  Elizabeth  was  to  succeed 
her.  This  arrangement  went  into  full  effect. 
The  council  governed  the  kingdom  in  Edward'i 
name  until  he  was  sixteen  years  of  age,  when 


1547.J  CHILDHOOD  OK  A  PRINCESS.        4? 

Elizabeth's  trouble*  The  two  Sejmocm 

he  died.  Then  Mary  followed,  and  reigned  as 
queen  five  years  longer,  and  died  without  chil- 
dren, and  during  all  this  time  Elizabeth  held 
the  rank  of  a  princess,  exposed  to  a  thousand 
iifficnlties  and  dangers  from  the  plots,  intrigues, 
and  conspiracies  of  those  about  her,  in  which, 
on  account  of  her  peculiar  position  and  pros 
pects,  she  was  necessarily  involved. 

One  of  the  worst  of  these  cases  occurred  soon 
after  her  father's  death.  There  were  two  broth- 
ers of  Jane  Seymour,  who  were  high  in  King 
Henry's  favor  at  the  time  of  his  decease  The 
oldest  is  known  in  history  by  his  title  of  the 
Earl  of  Hertford  at  first,  and  afterward  by 
that  of  Duke  of  Somerset.  The  youngest  was 
called  Sir  Thomas  Seymour.  They  were  both 
made  members  of  the  government  which  was 
to  administer  the  affairs  of  state  during  young 
Edward's  minority.  They  were  not,  however 
satisfied  with  any  moderate  degree  of  power. 
Being  brothers  of  Jane  Seymour,  who  was  Ed- 
ward's mother,  they  were  his  uncles,  of  course, 
and  the  oldest  one  soon  succeeded  in  causing 
himself  to  be  appointed  protector.  By  this  of- 
fice he  was,  in  fact,  king,  all  except  in  name. 

The  younger  brother,  who  was  an  agreeable 
and  accomplished  man,  paid  his  addresses  to  thf 


48  QUEEN   ELI&IBETH.          [1547 

The  qufwa  dowager1  •  marrfage.  The  Seymour*  quamn 

queen  dowager,  that  is,  to  the  widow  whom 
King  Henry  left,  for  the  last  of  his  wives  was 
living  at  the  time  of  his  death.  She  consented 
to  marry  him,  and  the  marriage  took  place  al- 
most immediately  after  the  king's  death — so 
won  in  fact,  that  it  was  considered  extremely 
hasty  and  unbecoming.  This  queen  dowager 
had  two  houses  left  to  her,  one  at  Chelsea,  and 
the  other  at  Hanworth,  towns  some  little  dis- 
tance up  the  river  from  London.  Here  she  re- 
sided with  her  new  husband,  sometimes  at  one 
of  the  houses,  and  sometimes  at  the  other.  The 
king  had  also  directed,  in  his  will,  that  the  Prin- 
cess Elizabeth  should  be  under  her  care,  so  that 
Elizabeth,  immediately  after  her  father's  death, 
lived  at  one  or  the  other  of  these  two  houses  un- 
der the  care  of  Seymour,  who,  from  having  been 
her  uncle,  became  now,  in  some  sense,  her  fa- 
ther. He  was  a  sort  of  uncle,  for  he  was  the 
brother  of  one  of  her  father's  wives.  He  was  a 
sort  of  father,  for  he  was  the  husband  of  anoth- 
er of  them.  Yet,  really,  by  blood,  there  was  DO 
relation  between  them. 

The  two  brothers,  Somerset  and  Seymour, 
quarreled.  Each  was  very  ambitious,  and  rery 
jealous  of  the  other.  Somerset,  in  addition  to 
being  appointed  protector  by  the  council,  got  t 


1547.J  CHILDHOOD  OF  A   PRINCESS.        49 

Somerset'!  power  and  influence.  Jealonole*  and  quarrel* 

grant  of  power  from  the  young  king  called  a 
patent.  This  commission  was  executed  with 
great  formality,  and  was  sealed  with  the  great 
seal  of  state,  and  it  made  Somerset,  in  some 
measure  independent  of  the  other  nobles  whom 
King  Henry  had  associated  with  him  in  the  gov- 
ernment. By  this  patent  he  was  placed  in  su- 
preme command  of  all  the  forces  by  land  and 
sea.  He  had  a  seat  on  the  right  hand  of  the 
throne,  under  the  great  canopy  of  state,  and 
whenever  he  went  abroad  on  public  occasions, 
he  assumed  all  the  pomp  and  parade  which 
would  have  been  expected  in  a  real  king.  Young 
Edward  was  wholly  under  his  influence,  and  did 
always  whatever  Somerset  recommended  him  to 
do.  Seymour  was  very  jealous  ol  all  this  great- 
ness, and  was  contriving  every  means  in  his 
power  to  circumvent  and  supersede  his  brother. 
The  wives,  too,  of  these  great  statesmen  quar- 
reled. The  Duchess  of  Somerset  thought  she 
was  entitled  to  the  precedence,  because  she  was 
the  wife  of  the  protector,  who,  being  a  kind  of 
regent,  ^  thought  he  was  entitled  to  have  hi« 
wife  considered  as  a  sort  of  queen.  The  wife 
of  Seymour,  on  the  other  hand,  contended  that 
she  was  entitled  to  the  precedence  as  a  real 
queen,  having  been  herself  the  actual  consort 
26—4 


50  QUEEN   ELIZABETH.          [1547 

Mary  Queen  of  Scot*  Marriage  tcheme* 

of  a  reigning  monarch.  The  two  ladies  disput- 
ed perpetually  on  this  point,  which,  of  course, 
could  never  be  settled.  They  enlisted,  howev- 
er, en  their  respective  sides  various  partisans, 
producing  a  gr«at  deal  of  jealousy  and  ill  will, 
and  increasing  the  animosity  of  their  husbands. 

All  this  time  the  celebrated  Mary  Queen  of 
Scots  was  an  Infant  in  Janet  Sinclair's  arms, 
at  the  castle  of  Stirling,  in  Scotland.  King 
Henry,  during  his  life,  had  made  a  treaty  with 
tho  government  of  Scotland,  by  which  it  was 
agreed  that  Mary  rhculd  be  married  to  his  son 
Edward  as  soon  as  the  two  children  should  have 
grown  to  maturity ;  but  afterward,  the  govern- 
ment of  Scotland  having  faMen  from  Protestant 
into  Catholic  hands,  they  determined  that  thia 
match  must  be  given  up.  The  English  author- 
ities were  very  much  incensed.  They  wished 
to  have  the  marriage  take  effect,  as  it  would 
end  in  uniting  the  Scotch  and  English  king- 
doms ;  and  the  protector,  when  a  time  arrived 
which  he  thought  was  favorable  for  his  purpos  i, 
raised  an  army  and  marched  northward  to  make 
war  upon  Scotland,  and  compel  the  Soots  fcc 
fulfill  the  contract  of  marriage. 

While  his  brother  was  gone  to  the  northward, 
Sevmoor  remained  at  home,  and  endeavored,  bt 


1547.]  CHILDHOOD  OF  A   PRINCESS.        51 

Seymour's  promotion.  Jane  Grey.  Family  quarrel* 

every  means  within  his  reach,  to  strengthen  his 
own  influence  and  increase  his  power.  He  con- 
trived to  obtain  from  the  council  of  government 
the  office  of  lord  high  admiral,  which  gave  him 
the  command  of  the  fleet,  and  made  him,  next 
to  his  brother,  the  most  powerful  and  important 
personage  in  the  realm.  He  had,  besides,  as 
has  already  been  stated,  the  custody  and  care 
of  Elizabeth,  who  lived  in  his  house ;  though, 
as  he  was  a  profligate  and  unprincipled  man, 
this  position  for  the  princess,  now  fast  growing 
up  to  womanhood,  was  considered  by  many  per- 
sons as  of  doubtful  propriety.  Still,  she  was  at 
present  only  fourteen  years  old.  There  was 
another  young  lady  likewise  in  his  family,  a 
niece  of  King  Henry,  and,  of  course,  a  second 
cousin  of  Elizabeth.  Her  name  was  Jane  Grey. 
It  was  a  very  unhappy  family.  The  manners 
and  habits  of  all  the  members  of  it,  excepting 
Jane  Grey,  seem  to  have  been  very  rude  and 
irregular.  The  admiral  quarreled  with  his  wife; 
and  was  jealous  of  the  very  servants  who  wait* 
ed  upon  her.  The  queen  observed  somsthirg 
in  the  manners  of  her  husband  toward  the  young 
princess  which  made  her  angry  both  with  him 
and  her.  Elizabeth  resented  this,  and  a  violent 
quarrel  ensued,  which  ended  in  their  separation 


02  C^UEEN   ELIZABETH.          [1548 

Death  of  the  queen  dowager.  Seymour's  •chained 

Elizabeth  went  away,  and  resided  afterward  at 
a  place  called  Hatfield. 

Very  soon  after  this,  the  queen  dowager  died 
•uddenly.  People  accused  Seymour,  her  hus- 
band, of  having  poisoned  her,  in  order  to  make 
way  for  the  Princess  Elizabeth  to  be  his  wife. 
He  denied  this,  but  he  immediately  began  to 
lay  his  plans  for  securing  the  hand  of  Elizabeth. 
There  was  a  probability  that  she  might,  at  some 
future  time,  succeed  to  the  crown,  and  then,  if 
^e  were  her  husband,  he  thought  he  should  be 
the  real  sovereign,  reigning  in  her  name. 

Elizabeth  had  in  her  household  two  persons, 
a  certain  Mrs.  Ashley,  who  was  then  her  gov- 
erness, and  a 'man  named  Parry,  who  was  a  sort 
of  treasurer.  He  was  called  the  cofferer.  The 
admiral  gained  these  persons  over  to  his  inter- 
ests, and,  through  them,  attempted  to  open 
communications  with  Elizabeth,  and  persuade 
her  to  enter  into  his  designs.  Of  course,  the 
"Whole  affair  was  managed  with  great  secrecy 
They  were  all  liable  to  a  charge  of  treason 
against  the  government  of  Edward  oy  such 
plots,  as  his  ministers  and  counselors  might 
maintain  that  their  design  was  to  overthrow  Ed- 
ward's  government  and  make  Elizabeth  queen 
They,  therefore,  were  all  banded  together  te 


1548]  CHILDHOOD  OF  A  PRINCESS.         53 

Bevmour'e  arrest  Hia  trial  and  attainder. 

keep  their  councils  secret,  and  Elizabeth  was 
drawn,  in  some  degree,  into  the  scheme,  though 
precisely  how  far  was  never  fully  known.  It 
was  supposed  that  she  began  to  love  Seymour, 
although  he  was  very  much  older  than  herself, 
and  to  be  willing  to  become  his  wife.  It  is  not 
surprising  that,  neglected  and  forsaken  as  she 
had  been,  she  should  have  been  inclined  to  re- 
gard with  favor  an  agreeable  and  influential 
man,  who  expressed  a  strong  affection  for  her, 
and  a  warm  interest  in  her  welfare. 

However  this  may  be,  Elizabeth  was  one 
day  struck  with  consternation  at  hearing  that 
Seymour  was  arrested  by  order  of  his  brother, 
who  had  returned  from  Scotland  and  had  re- 
ceived information  of  his  designs,  and  that  he 
had  been  committed  to  the  Tower.  He  had  a 
hurried  and  irregular  trial,  or  what,  in  those 
days,  was  called  a  trial.  The  council  went  them- 
selves to  the  Tower,  and  had  him  brought  before 
them  and  examined.  He  demanded  to  have  the 
charges  made  out  in  form,  and  the  witnesses 
confronted  with  him,  but  the  council  were  sati». 
fied  of  his  guilt  without  these  formalities.  The 
Parliament  immediately  afterward  passed  a  bill 
of  attainder  against  him,  by  which  he  was  sen. 
tenoed  to  death.  His  brother,  the  protector 


54  QUEEN    ELIZABETH.  [154ft 

•eyiaov  behetded.  EUztbetii't  trtik 

signed  the  warrant  for  his  execution,  and  he 
was  beheaded  on  Tower  Hill. 

The  protector  sent  two  messengers  in  the 
eonrse  of  this  affair  to  Elizabeth,  to  see  what 
fcney  could  ascertain  from  her  about  it.  Sir 
Robert  Tyrwhitt  was  the  name  of  the  principal 
one  of  these  messengers.  When  the  cofferer 
learned  that  they  were  at  the  gate,  he  went  in 
great  terror  into  his  chamber,  and  said  that  he 
was  undone.  At  the  same  time,  he  pulled  off  a 
chain  from  his  neck,  and  the  rings  from  his  fin- 
gers, and  threw  them  away  from  him  with  ges- 
ticulations of  despair.  The  messengers  then 
came  to  Elizabeth,  and  told  her,  falsely  as  it 
seems,  with  a  view  to  frighten  her  into  confes- 
sions, that  Mrs.  Ashley  and  the  cofferer  were 
both  secured  and  sent  to  the  Tower.  She  seem- 
ed very  much  alarmed ;  she  wept  bitterly,  and 
it  was  a  long  time  before  she  regained  her  com- 
posure. She  wanted  to  know  whether  they 
had  confessed  any  thing.  The  protector's  mes- 
sengers would  not  tell  her  this,  but  they  urged 
her  to  confess  herself  all  that  had  occurred ;  for, 
whatever  it  was,  they  said  that  the  evil  and 
shame  would  all  be  ascribed  to  the  other  per- 
sons concerned,  and  not  to  her,  on  account  of 
her  youth  and  inexperience.  Bat  Elizabeth 


1548.]  CHILDHOOD  OF  A  PRINCESS.         55 

Elizabeth's  firmness.  Lady  Tyrwhttk 

would  confess  nothing.  The  messengers  wen* 
away,  convinced,  as  they  said,  that  she  was 
guilty ;  they  could  see  that  in  her  countenance ; 
fend  that  her  silence  was  owing  to  her  firm  de- 
termination not  to  betray  her  lover.  They  sent 
word  to  the  protector  that  they  did  not  believe 
that  any  body  would  succeed  in  drawing  the 
least  information  from  her,  unless  it  was  the 
protector,  or  young  King  Edward  himself 

These  mysterious  circumstances  produced  a 
*omewhat  unfavorable  impression  in  regard  to 
Elizabeth,  and  there  were  some  instances,  it  was 
said,  of  light  and  trifling  behavior  between  Eliz- 
abeth and  Seymour,  while  she  was  in  his  house 
during  the  life-time  of  his  wife.  They  took 
place  in  the  presence  of  Seymour's  wife,  and 
seem  of  no  consequence,  except  to  show  that 
dukes  and  princesses  got  into  frolics  sometimes 
in  those  days  as  well  as  other  mortals.  People 
censured  Mrs.  Ashley  for  not  enjoining  a  great- 
er dignity  and  propriety  of  demeanor  in  her 
young  charge,  and  the  government  removed  her 
from  her  place. 

Lady  Tyrwhitt,  who  was  the  wife  of  the 

messenger  referred  to  above  that  was  sent  to 

examine  Elizabeth,  was  appointed  to  succeed 

Mrs.  Ashley.     Elizabeth  was  very  much  dis- 

leased  at  this  change.     She  toJd   Lady  Tyr- 


56  QUKEN   ELIZABETH. 

dtob«lh'(  rafferlnfi.  Her  fidelity  to  her  Mead* 

whitt  that  Mrs.  Ashley  was  her  mistress,  and 
that  she  had  not  done  a  ay  thing  to  make  it  nec- 
essary for  the  council  to  put  more  mistresse* 
•>ver  her.  Sir  Robert  wrote  to  the  protector 
tha*  she  took  the  affair  so  heavily  that  she 
"  wept  all  night,  and  lowered  all  the  next  day." 
He  said  that  her  attachment  to  Mrs.  Ashley 
was  very  strong ;  and  that,  if  any  thing  were 
said  against  the  lord  admiral,  she  could  not  bear 
to  hear  it,  but  took  up  his  defense  in  the  most 
prompt  and  eager  manner. 

How  far  it  is  true  that  Elizabeth  loved  the 
unfortunate  Seymour  can  now  never  be  known 
There  is  no  doubt,  however,  but  that  this  whole 
affair  was  a  very  severe  trial  and  affliction  to 
her.  It  came  upon  her  when  she  was  but  four- 
teen or  fifteen  years  of  age,  and  when  she  was 
in  a  position,  as  well  of  an  age,  which  ren- 
ders the  heart  acutely  sensitive  both  to  the  ef- 
fect of  kindness  and  of  injuries.  Seymour,  by 
his  death,  was  lost  to  her  forever,  and  Elizabeth 
lived  in  great  retirement  and  seclusion  during 
the  remainder  of  her  brother's  reign.  She  did 
not,  however,  forget  Mrs.  Ashley  and  Parry 
On  her  accession  to  the  throne,  many  years  af- 
terward, she  gave  them  offices  very  valuable, 
considering  their  station  in  life,  and  was  a  trat 
friend  to  them  both  to  the  end  of  their  days. 


I550.J  LADYJANEGREY.  57 

Lady  J«M  Grey.  Her  disposition  and  character 


CHAPTER  III. 
LADY  JANE  GREY. 

AMONG  Elizabeth's  companions  and  play- 
mates in  her  early  years  was  a  young 
lady,  her  cousin,  as  she  was  often  called,  though 
she  was  really  the  daughter  of  her  cousin,  named 
Jane  Grey,  commonly  called  in  history  Lady 
J  ane  Grey.  Her  mother  was  the  Marchioness 
of  Dorset,  and  was  the  daughter  of  one  of  King 
Henry  the  Eighth's  sisters.  King  Henry  had 
named  her  as  the  next  in  the  order  of  succession 
after  his  own  children,  that  is,  after  Edward  his 
son,  and  Mary  and  Elizabeth  his  two  daughters ; 
and,  consequently,  though  she  was  very  young, 
yet,  as  she  might  one  day  be  Queen  of  England, 
she  was  a  personage  of  considerable  importance. 
She  was,  accordingly,  kept  near  the  court,  and 
shared,  in  some  respects,  the  education  and  the 
studies  of  the  two  princesses. 

Lady  Jane  was  about  four  years  younger 
than  the  Princess  Elizabeth,  and  the  sweetnes* 
of  her  disposition,  united  with  an  extraordinary 
intellectual  superiority,  which  showed  itself  at 


58  QUEEN   ELIZABETH.  [1550 

L«dy  Jaae'i  parent*.  Keetralnti  put  upon  bar 

a  very  early  period,  made  her  a  universal  favor- 
ite. Her  father  and  mocher,  the  Marquis  and 
Marchioness  of  Dorset,  lived  at  an  estate  they 
possessed,  called  Broadgate,  in  Leicestershire, 
which  is  in  the  central  part  of  England,  although 
they  took  their  title  from  the  county  of  Dorset, 
which  is  on  the  southwestern  coast.  They  were 
very  proud  of  their  daughter,  and  attached  in- 
finite importance  to  her  descent  from  Henry 
VII.,  and  to  the  possibility  that  she  might  one 
day  succeed  to  the  English  throne.  They  were 
very  strict  and  severe  in  their  manners,  and 
paid  great  attention  to  etiquette  and  punctilio, 
as  persons  who  are  ambitious  of  rising  in  the 
world  are  very  apt  to  do.  In  all  ages  of  the 
world,  and  among  all  nations,  those  who  have 
long  been  accustomed  to  a  high  position  are 
easy  and  unconstrained  in  their  manners  and 
demeanor,  while  those  who  have  been  newly 
mdvanccd  from  a  lower  station,  or  who  are  an- 
ticipating or  aspiring  to  such  an  advance,  make 
themselves  slaves  to  the  rules  of  etiquette  and 
oererrony.  It  was  thus  that  the  father  and 
mother  of  Lady  Jane,  anticipating  that  she 
might  one  day  become  a  queen,  watched  and 
guarded  her  incessantly,  subjected  her  to  a 
thormand  unwelcome  restraints,  and  repressed 


1550.]  LADY  JANE   GREY.  59 

Lady  June's  attainments.  Character  of  her  teacher, 

all  the  spontaneous  and  natural  gayety  and 
sprightliness  which  belongs  properly  to  such  a 
child 

She  became,  however,  a  very  excellent  schol 
ir  ir  consequence  of  this  state  of  things.  She 
had  a  private  teacher,  a  man  of  great  eminence 
for  his  learning  and  abilities,  and  yet  of  a  very 
kind  and  gentle  spirit,  which  enabled  him  to 
gain  a  strong  hold  on  his  pupil's  affection  and 
regard.  His  name  was  John  Aylmer.  The 
Marquis  of  Dorset,  Lady  Jane's  father,  became 
acquainted  with  Mr.  Aylmer  when  he  was  quite 
young,  and  appointed  him,  when  he  had  finished 
his  education,  to  come  and  reside  in  his  family 
as  chaplain  and  tutor  to  his  children.  Aylmer 
afterward  became  a  distinguished  man,  was 
made  Bishop  of  London,  and  held  many  high 
offices  of  state  under  Queen  Elizabeth,  when 
she  came  to  reign.  He  became  very  much  at- 
tached to  Queen  Elizabeth  in  the  middle  and 
latter  part  of  his  life,  as  he  had  been  to  Lady 
Jane  in  the  early  part  of  it.  A  curious  incident 
occurred  during  the  time  that  he  was  in  the 
•enrice  of  Elizabeth,  which  illustrates  the  char- 
acter of  the  man.  The  queen  was  suffering 
from  the  toothache,  and  it  was  necessary  that 
the  tooth  should  be  extracted.  The  sursreoa 


60  QUEHJI   ELIZABETH.          [1560 

Anecdote  of  Elizabeth  and  Aylroer.     I.ndy  Jane'i  »tt«clinvw*  to  Ay  liner 

was  ready  with  his  instruments,  and  several 
ladies  and  gentlemen  of  the  royal  household 
were  in  the  queen's  room  commiserating  her 
•offerings ;  but  the  queen  dreaded  the  operation 
•o  excessively  that  she  could  not  summon  for- 
titude enough  to  submit  to  it  Aylmer,  after 
trying  some  time  in  vain  to  encourage  her,  took 
his  seat  in  the  chair  instead  of  her,  and  said  to 
the  surgeon,  "  I  am  an  old  man,  and  have  but 
few  teeth  to  lose  ;  but  come,  draw  this  one,  and 
let  her  majesty  see  how  light  a  matter  it  is." 
One  would  not  have  supposed  that  Elizabeth 
would  have  allowed  this  to  be  done ;  but  she  did  , 
and,  finding  that  Aylmer  made  so  light  of  the 
operation,  she  submitted  to  have  it  performed 
upon  herself. 

But  to  return  to  Lady  Jane.  She  was  very 
strongly  attached  to  her  teacher,  and  made  great 
progress  in  the  studies  which  he  arranged  for 
her.  Ladies  of  high  rank,  in  those  days,  were 
accustomed  to  devote  great  attention  to  the  an- 
oient  and  modern  languages.  There  was,  in 
(act,  a  great  necessity  then,  as  indeed  there  ia 
tow,  for  a  European  princess  to  be  acquainted 
with  the  principal  languages  of  Europe ;  for  the 
various  royal  families  were  continually  inter- 
marrying with  each  other,  which  led  to  a  great 


1550. 


Cizabeth's  studies.  Roger  Ajcbam. 

many  visits,  and  other  intercourse  between  the 
different  courts.  There  was  also  a  great  deal 
of  intercourse  with  the  pope,  in  which  the  Latin 
language  was  the  medium  of  communication. 
Lady  Jane  devoted  a  great  deal  of  time  to  all 
these  studies,  and  made  rapid  proficiency  in 
them  all. 

The  Princess  Elizabeth  was  also  an  excellent 
scholai  Her  teacher  was  a  very  learned  and 
celebrated  ma  a,  named  Roger  Ascham.  She 
spoke  French  and  Italian  as  fluently  as  she 
did  English.  She  also  wrote  and  spoke  Latin 
with  correctness  and  readiness.  She  made  con- 
siderable progress  in  Greek  too.  She  could 
write  the  Greek  character  very  beautifully,  and 
could  express  herself  tolerably  well  in  conversa- 
tion in  that  language.  One  of  her  companions, 
a  young  lady  of  the  name  of  Cecil,  is  said  to 
have  spoken  Greek  as  well  as  English.  Roger 
Ascham  took  great  interest  in  advancing  the 
princess  in  these  studies,  and  in  the  course  of 
these  his  instructions  he  became  acquainted 
with  Lady  Jane,  and  he  praises  very  highly,  in 
his  letters,  the  industry  and  assiduity  of  Lady 
Jane  in  similar  pursuits. 

One  day  Roger  Ascham,  being  on  a  journey 
from  the  north  of  England  to  London,  stopped 


02  QUEEN  ELIZABETH.          [1550 

Lady  Jane't  acquirements  in  Greek.  Her  Interview  with  Aieham 

to  make  a  call  at  the  mansion  of  the  Marquis 
of  Dorset.  He  found  that  the  family  were  all 
iway ;  they  had  gone  off  upon  a  hunting  ex- 
onrsion  in  the  park.  Lady  Jane,  however,  had 
been  left  at  home,  and  Ascham  went  in  to  see 
her.  He  found  her  in  the  library  reading  Greek. 
Ascham  examined  her  a  little,  and  was  very 
much  surprised  to  find  how  well  acquainted 
with  the  language  she  had  become,  although 
she  was  then  only  about  fifteen  years  old.  He 
told  her  that  he  should  like  very  much  to  have 
her  write  him  a  letter  in  Greek,  and  this  she 
readily  promised  to  do.  He  asked  her,  also, 
how  it  happened  that,  at  her  age,  she  had  made 
such  advances  in  learning.  "  I  will  tell  you," 
said  she,  "how  it  has  happened.  One  of  the 
greatest  benefits  that  God  ever  conferred  upon 
me  was  in  giving  me  so  sharp  and  severe  par- 
ents and  so  gentle  a  teacher :  for,  when  I  am 
in  the  presence  of  either  my  father  or  mother, 
whether  I  speak,  keep  silence,  sit,  stand,  or  go ; 
eat,  drink,  be  merry  or  sad ;  be  sewing,  play- 
ing, dancing,  or  doing  any  thing  else,  I  must 
do  itt  as  it  were,  in  just  such  weight,  measure, 
and  number,  as  perfectly  as  possible,  or  else  I 
am  so  sharply  taunted,  so  cruelly  threatened, 
vea,  presently ,  sometimes  with  pinches,  nips,  and 


J.550.]  LADY    JANE     GREY.  65 

Lady  Jane'i  intimacy  with  Edward.  The  Earl  of  NortintmbertanA 

bobs,  and  other  ways,  which  I  will  not  name 
for  the  honor  I  bear  my  parents,  that  I  am  con- 
tinually teased  and  tormented.  And  then,  when 
the  time  comes  for  me  to  go  to  Mr.  Elsmer,  he 
teaches  no  so  gently,  so  pleasantly,  and  with 
Fusli  fail  allurements  to  learning,  that  I  think 
all  the  time  nothing  while  I  am  with  him ;  and 
I  am  always  sorry  to  go  away  from  him,  be- 
cause whatsoever  else  I  do  but  learning  is  fuE 
»f  grief,  trouble,  fear,  and  suffering." 

Lady  Jane  Grey  was  an  intimate  friend  and 
companion  of  the  young  King  Edward  as  long 
as  he  lived.  Edward  died  when  he  was  sixteen 
years  of  age,  so  that  he  did  not  reach  the  period 
which  his  father  had  assigned  for  his  reigning 
in  his  own  name.  One  of  King  Edward's  most 
prominent  and  powerful  ministers  during  the 
latter  part  of  his  life  was  the  Earl  of  Northum- 
berland. The  original  name  of  the  Earl  of 
Northumberland  was  John  Dudley.  He  wa» 
one  of  the  train  who  came  in  the  procession  at 
the  close  of  the  baptism  of  Elizabeth,  carrying 
the  presents.  He  was  a  .Protestant,  and  waa 
rery  friendly  to  Edward  and  to  Lady  Jane 
Grey,  for  they  were  Protestants  too.  But  hia 
feelings  and  policy  were  hostile  to  Mary,  for  she 
was  a  Catholic.  Mary  was  sometimes  treated 
26—5 


66  QUEEN  ELIZABETH.          [1550 

Htrah  treatment  of  Mary.  Decline  of  Edwtrd'i  health. 

very  harshly  by  him,  and  she  was  subjected  t« 
many  privations  and  hardships  on  account  of 
her  religious  faith.  The  government  of  Ed- 
ward justified  these  measures,  on  account  of 
the  necessity  of  promoting  the  Reformation,  and 
discouraging  popery  by  every  means  in  their 
power.  Northumberland  supposed,  too,  that  it 
was  safe  to  do  this,  for  Edward  being  very 
young,  it  \vas  probable  that  he  would  live  and 
reign  a  long  time.  It  is  true  that  Mary  waa 
named,  in  her  father's  will,  as  his  successor,  if 
she  outlived  him,  but  then  it  was  highly  prob- 
able that  she  would  not  outlive  him,  for  she  waa 
several  years  older  than  he. 

All  these  calculations,  however,  were  spoiled 
by  the  sudden  failure  of  Edward's  health  when 
he  was  sixteen  years  old.  Northumberland  was 
much  alarmed  at  this.  He  knew  at  once  that  if 
Edward  should  die,  and  Mary  succeed  him,  all 
his  power  would  be  gone,  and  he  determined  to 
make  desperate  efforts  to  prevent  such  a  result 

It  must  not  be  understood,  however,  that  in 
Doming  to  this  resolution,  Northumberland  con- 
sidered himself  as  intending  and  planning  a  de- 
liberate usurpation  of  power.  There  was  a  real 
uncertainty  in  respect  to  the  question  who  wai 
the  true  and  rightful  heir  to  the  crown.  Nor- 


1550.]  LAbY   JANELTREI.  07 

Uncertainty  In  respect  to  the  succession.  Struggle!  for  power 

thumberland  was,  undoubtedly,  strongly  biased 
by  his  interest,  but  he  may  have  been  uncon- 
scious of  the  bias,  and  in  advocating  the  mode 
of  succession  on  which  the  continuance  of  hit 
own  power  depended,  he  may  have  really  be- 
lieved  that  he  was  only  maintaining  what  was 
in  itself  rightful  and  just. 

In  fact,  there  is  no  mode  which  human  inge- 
nuity has  ever  yet  devised  for  determining  the 
hands  in  which  the  supreme  executive  of  a  na- 
tion shall  be  lodged,  which  will  always  avoid 
doubt  and  contention.  If  this  power  devolves 
by  hereditary  descent,  no  rules  can  be  made  so 
minute  and  full  as  that  cases  will  not  some- 
times occur  that  will  transcend  them.  If,  on 
the  other  hand,  the  plan  of  election  be  adopted, 
there  will  often  be  technical  doubts  about  a  por- 
tion of  the  votes,  and  cases  will  sometimes  occur 
where  the  result  will  depend  upon  this  doubtful 
portion.  Thus  there  will  be  disputes  under  any 
system,  and  ambitious  men  will  seize  such  oc- 
casions to  struggle  for  power. 

In  order  that  our  readers  may  clearly  under- 
stand the  nature  of  the  plan  which  Northum- 
berland adopted,  we  present,  on  the  following 
page,  a  sort  of  genealogical  table  of  the  roya, 
family  of  England  in  the  days  of  Elizabeth. 


QUEEN    ELIZABETH. 


[1660 


Queen  Elizabeth's  family  connection*. 

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1550.1  LiDY    JANE     (iREY  89 


Explanation  of  the  table.  King  lluury'i  wlQ 

By  examination  of  this  table,  it  will  be  seen 
fchat  King  Henry  VII.  left  a  son  and  two  daugh- 
ters. The  son  was  King  Henry  VIIL,  and  he 
had  three  children.  His  third  child  was  King 
Edward  VI.,  who  was  now  about  to  die.  The 
other  two  were  the  Princesses  Mary  and  Eliza- 
beth, who  would  naturally  be  considered  the 
next  heirs  after  Edward ;  and  besides,  King 
Henry  had  left  a  will,  as  has  been  already  ex- 
plained, confirming  their  rights  to  the  succes- 
sion. This  will  he  had  made  near  the  time  of 
his  death ;  but  it  will  be  recollected  that,  dur- 
ing his  life-time,  both  the  marriages  from  which 
these  princesses  had  sprung  had  been  formally 
annulled.  His  marriage  with  Catharine  of  Ar 
agon  had  been  annulled  on  one  plea,  and  that 
of  Anne  Boleyn  on  another.  Both  these  decrees 
of  annulment  had  afterward  been  revoked,  and 
the  right  of  the  princesses  to  succeed  had  been 
restored,  or  attempted  to  be  restored,  by  the  will 
Still,  it  admitted  of  a  question,  after  all,  whether 
Mary  and  Elizabeth  were  to  be  considered  as  the 
children  of  true  and  lawful  wives  or  not. 

If  they  were  not,  then  Lady  Jane  Grey  was 
the  next  heir,  for  she  was  placed  next  to  the 
princesses  by  King  Henry  the  Eighth's  wilJ 
This  will,  for  some  reason  or  other,  set  aside  a 


70  QUEEN  ELIZABETH.  [1550. 

Varlou  "laimnnta  for  the  threne.  Perplexing  qnnitlnaa 

the  descendants  of  Margaret,  who  went  to  Soot- 
land  as  the  wife  of  James  IV.  of  that  country. 
What  right  the  king  had  thus  to  disinherit  the 
children  of  his  sister  Margaret  was  a  great 
question.  Among  her  descendants  was  Mary 
Qneen  of  Soots,  as  will  be  seen  by  the  table, 
and  she  was,  at  this  time,  the  representative  of 
that  branch  of  the  family.  The  friends  of  Mary 
Queen  of  Scots  claimed  that  she  was  the  law- 
ful heir  to  the  English  throne  after  Edward 
They  maintained  that  the  marriage  of  Catha- 
rine, the  Princess  Mary's  mother,  and  also  that 
of  Anne  Boleyn,  Elizabeth's  mother,  had  both 
been  annulled,  and  that  the  will  could  not  re- 
store them.  They  maintained,  also,  that  the 
will  was  equally  powerless  in  setting  aside  the 
claims  of  Margaret,  her  grandmother.  Mary 
Queen  of  Scots,  though  silent  now,  advanced 
her  claim  subsequently,  and  made  Elizabeth  a 
great  deal  of  trouble. 

Then  there  was,  besides  these,  a  third  party, 
who  maintained  that  King  Henry  the  Eighth's 
will  was  not  effectual  in  legalizing  again  the 
annulled  marriages,  but  that  it  was  sufficient 
to  set  aside  the  claims  of  Margaret.  Of  course, 
with  them,  Lady  Jane  Grey,  who,  as  will  be 
seen  by  the  table,  was  the  representative  of  th«» 


i553.j  LADYJANEGREY.  71 

Power  of  Northumberland.  Hi*  scheme* 

second  sister  of  Henry  VIII.,  was  the  only  heir. 
The  Earl  of  Northumberland  embraced  thia 
view.  His  motive  was  to  raise  Lady  Jane  Grey 
to  the  throne,  in  order  to  exclude  the  Princess 
Mary,  whose  accession  he  knew  very  well  wonld 
bring  all  his  greatness  to  a  very  sudden  end. 

The  Earl  of  Northumberland  was  at  this 
time  the  principal  minister  of  the  young  king. 
The  protector  Somerset  had  fallen  long  ago. 
Northumberland,  whose  name  was  then  John 
Dudley,  had  supplanted  him,  and  had  acquired 
BO  great  influence  and  power  at  court  that  al- 
most every  thing  seemed  to  be  at  his  disposal. 
He  was,  however,  generally  hated  by  the  other 
courtiers  and  by  the  nation.  Men  who  gain  the 
confidence  of  a  young  or  feeble-minded  prince, 
so  as  to  wield  a  great  power  not  properly  theii 
own,  are  almost  always  odious.  It  was  expected, 
however,  that  his  career  would  be  soon  brought 
to  an  end,  as  all  knew  that  King  Edward  must 
die,  and  it  was  generally  understood  that  Mary 
was  to  succeed  him. 

Northumberland,  however,  was  very  anxloui 
to  devise  some  scheme  to  continue  his  power, 
and  in  revolving  the  subject  in  his  mind,  he 
conceived  of  plans  which  seemed  to  promise  not 
wily  to  continue,  but  also  greatly  to  increase  it 


72  QUEEN   ELIZABETH.  [1553 

Marriage  of  Lady  Jane.  Feelings  of  the  peopl* 

His  scheme  was  to  have  the  princesses'  claims 
set  aside,  and  Lady  Jane  Grey  raised  to  the 
throne.  He  had  several  sons.  One  of  them 
was  young,  handsome,  and  accomplished.  He 
thought  of  proposing  him  to  Lady  Jane's  father 
as  the  husband  of  Lady  Jane,  and,  to  induce 
the  marquis  to  consent  to  this  plan,  he  promised 
to  obtain  a  dukedom  for  him  by  means  of  his 
influence  with  the  king.  The  marquis  agreed 
to  the  proposal.  Lady  Jane  did  not  object  to 
the  husband  they  offered  her.  The  dukedom 
was  obtained,  and  the  marriage,  together  with 
two  others  which  Northumberland  had  arrang- 
ed to  strengthen  his  influence,  were  celebrated, 
all  on  the  same  day,  with  great  festivities  and 
rejoicings.  The  people  looked  on  moodily,  jeal- 
ous and  displeased,  though  they  had  no  open 
ground  of  displeasure,  except  that  it  was  un- 
suitable to  have  such  scenes  of  gayety  and  re 
joicing  among  the  high  officers  of  the  court 
while  the  young  monarch  himself  was  lying 
upon  his  dying  bed.  They  did  not  yet  know 
tha.  it  was  Northumberland's  plan  to  raise  his 
cew  daughter-in-law  to  the  throne. 

Northumberland  thought  it  would  greatly  in- 
crease his  prospect  of  success  if  he  could  ob- 
tain some  act  of  acknowledgment  of  Lady  Jaua'v 


1553.1  L  A  D  Y    J  A  N  E     G  R  E  V.  73 

Efforts  to  let  Mary  aside.       Northumberland  work*  on  the  young  king 

claims  to  the  orown  before  Edward  died.  AB 
opportunity  soon  occurred  for  effecting  this  pur 
pose.  One  day,  as  he  was  sitting  by  young  Ed- 
ward's bedside,  he  turned  the  conversation  to 
ihe  subject  of  the  Reformation,  which  had  made 
preat  progress  during  Edward's  reign,  and  he 
led  Edward  on  in  the  conversation,  until  he  re- 
marked that  it  was  a  great  pity  to  have  the 
work  all  undone  by  Mary's  accession,  for  she 
was  a  Catholic,  and  would,  of  course,  endeavor 
to  bring  the  country  back  again  under  the  spir- 
itual dominion  of  Rome.  Northumberland  then 
told  him  that  there  was  one  way,  and  one  way 
only,  to  avert  such  a  calamity,  and  that  was  to 
make  Lady  Jane  his  heir  instead  of  Mary. 

King  Edward  was  a  very  thoughtful,  consid- 
erate, and  conscientious  boy,  and  was  very  de- 
sirous of  doing  what  he  considered  his  duty.  He 
thought  it  was  his  duty  to  do  all  in  his  power 
to  sustain  the  Reformation,  and  to  prevent  the 
Catholic  power  from  gaining  ascendency  in  En- 
gland again.  He  was,  therefore,  easily  persua- 
ded to  accede  to  Northumberland's  plan,  espe- 
cially as  he  was  himself  strongly  attached  to 
Lady  Jane,  who  had  often  been  his  playmate 
and  companion. 

The  king  accordingly  sent  for  three  judges 


74  QUEEN  ELIZABETH.          [1553 

Conduct  of  the  Judge*   .  Pardon  by  «nticip»tio» 

of  the  realm,  and  directed  them  to  draw  up  a 
deed  of  assignment,  by  which  the  crown  was  to 
be  conveyed  to  Lady  Jane  on  the  young  king'f 
death,  Mary  and  Elizabeth  being  alike  exclu- 
ded. The  judges  were  afraid  to  do  this ;  for, 
by  King  Henry  the  Eighth's  settlement  of  the 
crown,  all  those  persons  who  should  do  any 
thing  to  disturb  the  succession  as  he  arranged 
it  were  declared  to  be  guilty  of  high  treason. 
The  judges  knew  very  well,  therefore,  that  if 
they  should  do  what  the  king  required  of  them, 
and  then,  if  the  friends  of  Lady  Jane  should  fail 
of  establishing  her  upon  the  throne,  the  end  of 
the  affair  would  be  the  cutting  off  of  their  own 
heads  in  the  Tower.  They  represented  this  to 
the  king,  and  begged  to  be  excused  from  the 
duty  that  he  required  of  them.  Northumber- 
land was  in  a  great  rage  at  this,  and  seemed 
almost  ready  to  break  out  against  the  judges  in 
open  violence.  They,  however,  persisted  in  their 
refusal  to  do  what  they  well  knew  would  sub- 
ject them  to  the  pains  and  penalties  of  treason. 
Northumberland,  finding  that  threats  and  vi- 
eionce  would  not  succeed,  contrived  another 
mode  of  obviating  the  difficulty.  He  proposed 
to  protect  the  judges  from  any  possible  evil  con- 
nequenoe*  of  their  act  by  a  formal  pardon  for  it 


L553.J          LADY  JANE   GREY.  75 

Edward' »  deed  of  Mttleneat  Flan  to  entrap  the  prtnoeMe* 

signed  by  the  king,  and  sealed  with  the  great 
leal,  so  that,  in  case  they  were  ever  charged 
with  treason,  the  pardon  would  save  them  from 
punishment.  This  plan  succeeded.  The  par- 
ion  was  made  out,  being  written  with  great 
formality  upon  a  parchment  roll,  and  sealed 
with  the  great  seal.  The  judges  then  prepared 
and  signed  the  deed  of  settlement  by  which  the 
crown  was  given  to  Lady  Jane,  though,  after  all) 
they  did  it  with  much  reluctance  and  many 
forebodings. 

Northumberland  next  wanted  to  contrive 
some  plan  for  getting  the  princesses  into  hi* 
power,  in  order  to  prevent  their  heading  anv 
movement  in  behalf  of  their  own  claims  at  the 
death  of  the  king.  He  was  also  desirous  of 
making  such  arrangements  as  to  conceal  the 
death  of  the  king  for  a  few  days  after  it  should 
take  place,  in  order  that  he  might  get  Lady 
Jane  and  her  officers  in  complete  possession  of 
the  kingdom  before  the  demise  of  the  crown 
should  be  generally  known.  For  this  purpose 
he  dismissed  the  regular  physicians  who  had  at- 
tended upon  the  king,  and  put  him  under  the 
charge  of  a  woman,  who  pretended  that  she  had 
a  medicine  that  would  certainly  cure  him.  He 
sent,  also,  messengers  to  the  princesses,  who 


76  QUEEN   ELIZAHKTH  [1553 

DmtL  of  Edward.  E*cap«  of  the  prlneeMW* 

were  then  in  the  country  north  of  London,  re- 
questing that  they  would  come  to  Greenwich, 
^o  be  near  the  sick  chamber  where  their  broth- 
cr  was  lying,  that  they  might  cheer  and  com- 
fort him  in  his  sickness  and  pain. 

The  princesses  obeyed  the  summons.  They 
aach  sat  out  immediately  on  the  journey,  and 
moved  toward  London  on  their  way  to  Green- 
wich. In  the  mean  time,  Edward  was  rapidly 
declining.  The  change  in  the  treatment  which 
took  place  when  his  physicians  left  him,  made 
him  worse  instead  of  better.  His  cough  in- 
creased, his  breathing  became  more  labored  and 
difficult ;  in  a  word,  his  case  presented  all  the 
symptoms  of  approaching  dissolution.  At  length 
he  died.  Northumberland  attempted  to  keep 
the  fact  concealed  until  after  the  princesses 
should  arrive,  that  he  might  get  them  into  his 
power.  Some  faithful  friend,  however,  made 
all  haste  to  meet  them,  in  order  to  inform  them 
what  was  going  on.  In  this  way  Mary  received 
Intelligence  of  her  brother's  death  when  she  hac. 
almost  reached  London,  and  was  informed,  also, 
•f  the  plans  of  Northumberland  for  raising  Lady 
Jane  to  the  throne.  The  two  princesses  were 
extremely  alarmed,  and  both  turned  back  at 
onoe  toward  the  northward  again  Mary  stopped 


L553.]  LA»Y   JANE   GREY.  77 

Precaution!  of  Wary.  L«dy  Jane  proclaimed  qoeat 

tc  write  a  letter  to  the  council,  remonstrating 
against  their  delay  in  proclaiming  her  queen, 
End  then  proceeded  rapidly  to  a  strong  castle 
it  a  place  called  gharn,  in  the  county 

of  Suffolk,  on  the  eastern  coast  of  England. 
She  made  this  her  head-quarters,  because  she 
supposed  that  the  people  of  that  county  were 
particularly  friendly  to  her ;  and  then,  besides, 
it  was  near  the  sea,  and,  in  case  the  course  of 
events  should  turn  against  her,  she  could  make 
her  escape  to  foreign  lands.  It  is  true  that  the 
prospect  of  being  fugitive  and  an  exile  wa* 
very  dark  and  gloomy,  but  it  was  not  so  terrible 
as  the  idea  of  being  shut  up  a  prisoner  in  th« 
Tower,  or  being  beheaded  on  a  block  for  treason. 
In  the  mean  time,  Northumberland  went,  at 
the  head  of  a  troop  of  his  adherents,  to  the  res- 
idence of  Lady  Jane  Grey,  informed  her  of  the 
death  of  Edward,  and  announced  to  her  their 
determination  to  proclaim  her  queen.  Lady 
Jane  was  very  much  astonished  at  this  newa. 
At  first  she  absolutely  refused  the  offered  hon- 
?»r;  but  the  solicitations  and  urgency  of  Nor- 
thumberland, and  of  her  father  and  her  young 
husband,  at  length  prevailed.  She  was  con- 
ducted to  London,  and  instated  in  at  least  tht 
semblance  of  power 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH  [155.4 

tflccitement  Public  opinion  to  faror  of  Mary 


As  tfce  news  of  these  transactions  spread 
chroughout  the  land,  a  universal  and  strong  ex- 
citement was  produced,  every  body  at  once  tak- 
ing sides  either  for  Mary  or  Lady  Jane.  Band* 
of  armed  men  began  to  assemble.  It  soon  be- 
came apparent,  however,  that,  beyond  the  imme 
diate  precincts  of  London,  the  country  was  al- 
most unanimous  for  Mary.  They  dreaded,  it 
\M  true,  the  danger  which  they  anticipated  from 
her  Catholic  faith,  but  still  they  had  all  consid- 
ered it  a  settled  point,  since  the  death  of  Henry 
the  Eighth,  that  Mary  was  to  reign  whenever 
Edward  should  die  ;  and  this  general  expecta- 
tion that  she  would  be  queen  had  passed  in- 
»en4ibly  into  an  opinion  th»t  she  ought  to  be. 
Considered  strictly  as  a  legal  question,  it  was 
certainly  doubtful  which  of  the  four  claimants 
to  the  throne  had  the  strongest  title  ;  but  the 
public  were  not  disposed  so  to  regard  it.  They 
chose,  on  the  whole,  that  Mary  should  reign. 
Large  military  masses  consequently  flocked  to 
her  standard.  Elizabeth  took  sides  with  her, 
and  as  it  was  important  to  give  as  much  pub- 
lio  effect  to  her  adhesion  as  possible,  they  fur- 
nished Elizabeth  with  a  troop  of  a  thousand 
horsemen,  at  the  head  of  which  she  rode  to  meel 
Mary  and  tender  her  aid. 


1553.]  LADY   JANE   GREY.  79 

V ortbumbcrland  taken  prisoner.  He  U  beheaded 

Northumberland  went  forth  at  the  head  of 
such  forces  as  he  could  collect,  but  he  soon  found 
that  tFfe  attempt  was  vain.  His  troops  forsook 
him.  The  castles  which  had  at  first  been  under 
his  command  surrendered  themselves  to  Mary. 
The  Tower  of  London  went  over  to  her  side. 
Finally,  all  being  lost,  Northumberland  himself 
was  taken  prisoner,  and  all  his  influential  friends 
with  him,  and  were  committed  to  the  Tower. 
Lady  Jane  herself  too,  together  with  her  hus- 
band and  father,  were  seized  and  sent  to  prison 

Northumberland  was  immediately  put  upon 
his  trial  for  treason.  He  was  condemned,  and 
brought  at  once  to  the  block.  In  fact,  the  whole 
affair  moved  very  promptly  and  rapidly  on,  from 
its  commencement  to  its  consummation.  Ed- 
ward the  Sixth  died  on  the  5th  of  July,  and  it 
was  only  the  22d  of  August  when  Northumber- 
land was  beheaded.  The  period  for  which  the 
unhappy  Lady  Jane  enjoyed  the  honor  of  being 
called  a  queen  was  nine  days. 

It  was  about  a  month  after  this  that  Mary 
passed  from  the  Tower  through  the  city  of  Lon- 
don in  a  grand  triumphal  procession  to  be 
crowned.  The  royal  chariot,  covered  with  cloth 
of  golden  tissue,  was  drawn  by  six  horses  most 
splendidly  caparisoned.  Elizabeth,  who  had  aid- 


80  QUEEN  ELIZABETH.  [1553 

Mary's  triumphal  procecdon.  Shared  by  E&mboth 

•d  her  sister,  so  far  as  she  could,  in  the  strug- 
gle, was  admitted  to  share  the  triumph.  She 
had  a  carriage  drawn  by  six  horses  too,  with 
cloth  and  decorations  of  silver.  They  proceed- 
ed in  this  manner,  attended  and  followed  by  a 
great  cavalcade  of  nobles  and  soldiery,  to  West- 
minster Abbey,  where  Mary  took  her  seat  with 
great  formality  upon  her  father's  throne. 


1553.]       THE   ^I-AMSH   MATCE.  83 


Mary't  character. 


CHAPTER    IV. 
.    THE   SPANISH  MATCH. 

"  HEN  Queen  Mary  ascended  the  throne, 
she  was  a  maiden  lady  not  far  from  thir- 
ty-five years  of  age.  She  was  cold,  austere,  and 
forbidding  in  her  appearance  and  manners, 
though  probably  conscientious  and  honest  in 
her  convictions  of  duty.  She  was  a  very  firm 
and  decided  Catholic,  or,  rather,  she  evinced  a 
certain  strict  adherence  to  the  principles  of  her 
religious  faith,  which  we  generally  mil  firmness 
when  it  is  exhibited  by  those  whose  opinions 
agree  with  our  own,  though  we  are  very  apt  to 
name  it  bigotry  in  those  who  differ  from  ns. 

For  instance,  when  the  body  of  young  Ed- 
ward, her  brother,  after  his  death,  was  to  be 
deposited  in  the  last  home  of  the  English  kingh 
in  Westminster  Abbey,  which  is  a  very  mag- 
nificent cathedral  a  little  way  up  the  river  front 
London,  the  services  were,  of  course,  conducted 
according  to  the  ritual  of  the  English  Church, 
which  was  then  Protestant.  Mary,  however, 
oould  not  con-»oientiously  countenance  such  ae*  • 

26—6 


QUEEN   ELIZABETH.  [1553 

Anuew.  ftdtora  for  Queen  lUry'i  knd 

ioe»  even  by  being  present  at  them;  She  ac- 
cordingly assembled  her  immediate  attendants 
and  personal  friends  in  her  own  private  chape], 
and  celebrated  the  interment  there,  with  Cath- 
olic priests,  by  a  service  conformed  to  the  Cath 
olio  ritual.  Was  it  a  bigoted,  or  only  a  firm 
and  proper,  attachment  to  her  own  faith,  which 
forbade  her  joining  in  the  national  commemo- 
ration ?  The  reader  must  decide  ;  but,  in  de- 
ciding, he  is  bound  to  render  the  same  verdict 
that  he  would  have  given  if  it  had  been  a  case 
of  a  Protestant  withdrawing  thus  from  Catho- 
lic forms. 

At  all  events,  whether  bigoted  or  not,  Mary 
was  doubtless  si^«sere;  but  she  was  so  cold, 
and  stern,  and  nucitere  in  her  character,  that  she 
was  very  little  likely  to  be  loved.  There  were 
a  great  many  persons  who  wished  to  become  hei 
husband,  but  their  motives  were  to  share  hei 
grandeur  and  power.  Among  these  persons,  the 
most  prominent  one,  and  the  one  apparently 
most  likely  to  succeed,  was  a  prince  of  Spain 
His  name  was  Philip. 

It  was  his  father's  plan,  and  not  his  own,  that 
he  should  marry  Queen  Mary.  His  father  was 
at  this  time  the  most  wealthy  and  powerfu 
monarch  in  Europe.  His  name  was  CharJes* 


PORTRAIT  OF  PHILIP  OF  SPAIN. 


1553.]        THE   SPINISH  MATCIL  86 

Emperor  CTbar lea  the  Fifth.  Character  of  hi*  Mm  PhflJp 

He  is  commonly  called  in  history  Charles  V 
of  Spain.  He  was  not  only  King  of  Spain,  but 
Emperor  of  Germany.  He  resided  sometimes 
at  Madrid,  and  sometimes  at  Brussels  in  Flan- 
ders.  His  son  Philip  had  been  married  to  a 
Portuguese  princess,  but  his  wife  had  died,  and 
thus  Philip  was  a  widower.  Still,  he  was  only 
twenty-seven  years  of  age,  but  he  was  as  stem, 
severe,  and  repulsive  in  his  manners  as  Mary. 
His  personal  appearance,  too,  corresponded  with 
his  character.  He  was  a  very  decided  Catholic 
also,  and  in  his  natural  spirit,  haughty,  ambi- 
tious, and  domineering. 

The  Emperor  Charles,  as  soon  as  he  heard 
of  young  Edward's  death  and  of  Mary's  acces- 
sion to  the  English  throne,  conceived  the  plan 
of  proposing  to  her  his  son  Philip  for  a  husband. 
He  sent  over  a  wise  and  sagacious  statesman 
from  his  court  to  make  the  proposition,  and  to 
wrge  it  by  such  reasons  as  would  be  most  likely 
to  influence  Mary's  mind,  and  the  minds  of  the 
great  officers  of  her  government.  The  embas- 
sador  managed  the  affair  well.  In  fact,  it  wai 
probably  easy  to  manage  it.  Mary  would  nat- 
urally be  pleased  with  the  idea  of  such  a  young 
husband,  who,  besides  being  young  and  accom- 
plished, was  the  son  of  the  greatest  potentate  io 


86  QUEEN   ELIZABETH.          [1553 

Tb*  emperor  propose!  hU  ion.  Mary  pleu«d  with  the  propo««l 

Europe,  and  likely  one  day  to  take  his  father's 
place  tn  that  lofty  elevation.  Besides,  Mary 
Queen  of  Scots,  who  had  rival  claims  to  Queen 
Mary's  throne,  had  married,  or  was  about  to 
marry,  the  son  of  the  King  of  France,  and  there 
was  a  little  glory  in  outshining  her,  by  having 
for  a  husband  a  son  of  the  King  of  Spain.  It 
might,  however,  perhaps,  be  a  question  which 
was  the  greatest  match ;  for,  though  the  court 
of  Paris  was  the  most  brilliant,  Spain,  being  at 
that  time  possessed  of  the  gold  and  silver  mines 
of  its  American  colonies,  was  at  least  the  rich- 
est country  in  the  world. 

Mary's  ministers,  when  they  found  that  Mary 
herself  liked  the  plan,  fell  in  with  it  too.  Mary 
had  been  beginning,  very  quietly  indeed,  but 
very  efficiently,  her  measures  for  bringing  back 
the  English  government  and  nation  to  the  Cath- 
olic faith.  Her  ministers  told  her  now,  howev- 
er, that  if  she  wished  to  succeed  in  effecting 
this  match,  she  must  suspend  all  these  plant 
mntii  the  match  was  consummated.  The  peo- 
ple of  England  were  generally  of  the  Protestant 
faith.  They  had  been  very  uneasy  and  restles* 
under  the  progress  which  the  queen  had  been 
making  in  silencing  Protestant  preachers,  and 
bringing  back  Catholic  rites  and  ceremonies; 


1/533.J        THE   SPANISH  MATCH.  87 

Plan*  of  the  ministers  The  people  •tanned 

and  E.3W,  if  they  found  that  their  qneen  wa* 
going  to  marry  so  rigid  and  uncompromising  a 
Catholic  as  Philip  of  Spain,  they  would  be 
doubly  alarmed.  She  must  suspend,  therefore, 
for  a  time,  her  measures  for  restoring  papacy, 
unless  she  was  willing  to  give  up  her  husband. 
The  queen  saw  that  this  was  the  alternative, 
and  she  decided  on  following  her  ministers'  ad- 
vice. She  did  all  in  her  power  to  quiet  and 
calm  the  public  mind,  in  order  to  prepare  the 
way  for  announcing  the  proposed  connection. 

Rumors,  however,  began  to  be  spread  abroad 
that  such  a  design  was  entertained  before  Mary 
was  .fully  prepared  to  promulgate  it.  These 
rumors  produced  great  excitement,  and  awak- 
ened strong  opposition.  The  people  knew  Phil- 
ip's ambitious  and  overbearing  character,  and 
they  believed  that  if  he  were  to  come  to  En- 
gland as  the  husband  of  the  queen,  the  whole 
government  would  pass  into  hi*  hands,  and,  a* 
he  would  naturally  be  very  much  under  the  in- 
fluence of  his  father,  the  connection  was  likely 
to  result  in  making  England  a  mere  appendage 
to  the  already  vast  dominions  of  the  emperor. 
The  House  of  Commons  appointed  a  committee 
of  twenty  members,  and  sent  them  to  the  queen, 
with  a  h  unable  petition  that  she  would  not  mar- 


88  QUKEN    ELIZABETH.          [1553 

Oppodtion  to  the  match.  The  emperor  fomlihe*  money 

ry  a  foreigner.  The  queen  was  much  displeased 
at  receiving  such  a  petition,  and  she  dissolved 
the  Parliament.  The  members  dispersed,  car- 
rying with  them  every  where  expressions  of 
their  dissatisfaction  and  fear.  England,  they 
said,  was  about  to  become  a  province  of  Spam, 
and  the  prospect  of  such  a  consummation,  wher- 
ever the  tidings  went,  filled  the  people  of  the 
country  with  great  alarm. 

Queen  Mary's  principal  minister  of  state  at 
this  time  was  a  crafty  politician,  whose  name 
was  Gardiner.  Gardiner  sent  word  to  the  em- 
peror that  there  was  great  opposition  to  his  son's 
marriage  in  England,  and  that  he  feared  that 
he  should  not  be  able  to  accomplish  it,  unless 
the  terms  of  the  contract  of  marriage  were  made 
very  favorable  to  the  queen  and  to  England, 
and  unless  the  emperor  could  furnish  him  with 
a  large  sum  of  money  to  use  as  a  means  of 
bringing  influential  persons  of  the  realm  to  fa- 
vor it.  Charles  decided  to  send  the  money 
He  borrowed  it  of  some  of  the  rich  cities  of 
Germany,  making  his  son  Philip  give  his  bond 
to  repay  it  as  soon  as  he  should  get  possession 
of  his  bride,  and  of  the  rich  and  powerful  coun- 
try over  which  she  reigned.  The  amount  thus 
remitted  to  England  is  said  by  the  historian* 


1554.]        THE   SPANISH  MATCH.  89 

TVs  emperor's  embassy.  Treaty  of  marriage 

of  those  days  to  have  been  a  sum  equal  to  two 
millions  of  dollars.  The  bribery  was  certainly 
»  a  very  respectable  scale. 

The  emperor  also  sent  a  very  magnificent 
/  mbassy  to  London,  with  a  distinguished  noble- 
man at  its  head,  to  arrange  the  terms  and  con- 
tracts of  the  marriage.  This  embassy  came  in 
great  state,  and,  during  their  residence  in  lx>n- 
don,  were  the  objects  of  great  attention  and  pa- 
rade. The  eclat  of  their  reception,  and  the  in- 
fluence of  the  bribes,  seemed  to  silence  opposi- 
tion to  the  scheme.  Open  opposition  ceased  to 
be  expressed,  though  a  strong  and  inveterate 
'determination  against  the  measure  was  secret- 
ly extending  itself  throughout  the  realm.  This, 
however,  did  not  prevent  the  negotiations  from 
going  on.  The  terms  were  probably  all  fully 
understood  and  agreed  upon  before  the  embassy 
came,  so  that  nothing  remained  but  the  formal- 
ities of  writing  and  signing  the  articles. 

Some  of  the  principal  stipulations  of  these  ar- 
ticles were,  that  Philip  was  to  have  the  title  of 
King  of  England  jointly  with  Mary's  title  of 
queen.  Mary  was  also  to  share  with  him,  in 
the  same  way,  his  titles  hi  Spain.  It  was  agreed 
that  Mary  should  have  the  exclusive  power  of 
the  appointment  of  officers  of  government  in 


90  C^UEEN    ELIZABETH.  [1554 

Stipulation*  of  the  treaty  of  marriage. 

England,  and  that  no  Spaniards  should  be  eli- 
gible at  all.  Particular  provisions  were  made  in 
respect  to  the  children  which  might  result  from 
the  marriage,  as  to  how  they  should  inherit 
rights  of  government  in  the  two  countries. 
Philip  had  one  son  already,  by  his  former  wife. 
This  son  was  to  succeed  his  father  in  the  king- 
dom of  Spain,  but  the  other  dominions  of  Philip 
on  the  Continent  were  to  descend  to  the  offspring 
of  this  new  marriage,  in  modes  minutely  spec- 
ified to  fit  all  possible  cases  which  might  occur 
The  making  of  all  these  specifications,  however, 
turned  out  to  be  labor  lost,  as  Mary  never  had 
children. 

It  was  also  specially  agreed  that  Philip  should 
not  bring  Spanish  or  foreign  domestics  into  the 
realm,  to  give  uneasiness  to  the  English  peo- 
ple ;  that  he  would  never  take  the  queen  out  of 
England,  nor  carry  any  of  the  children  away, 
without  the  consent  of  the  English  nobility; 
ind  that,  if  the  queen  were  to  die  before  him, 
til  his  rights  and  claims  of  every  sort,  in  re- 
gpect  to  England,  should  forever  cease.  He 
also  agreed  that  he  would  never  carry  away  any 
of  the  jewels  or  other  property  of  the  crown,  nor 
suffer  any  other  person  to  do  so. 

These  stipulations,  guarding  so  carefully  th« 


1554. j         THE    SPANISH  MATCH.  91 

WjratTi  rebellion.  DukeofSuffofc 

rights  of  Mary  and  of  England,  were  intended 
to  satisfy  the  English  people,  and  remove  their 
objections  to  the  match.  They  produced  some 
effect,  but  the  hostility  was  too  deeply  seated  to 
be  so  easily  allayed.  It  grew,  on  the  contrary, 
more  and  more  threatening,  until  at  length  a 
conspiracy  was  formed  by  a  number  of  influen- 
tial and  powerful  men,  and  a  plan  of  open  re- 
bellion organized. 

The  leader  in  this  plan  was  Sir  Thomas  Wy- 
att,  and  the  outbreak  which  followed  is  known 
in  history  as  Wyatt's  rebellion.  Another  of  the 
leaders  was  the  Duke  of  Suffolk,  who,  it  will  be 
recollected,  was  the  father  of  Lady  Jane  Grey. 
This  led  people  to  suppose  that  the  plan  of  thf 
conspirators  was  not  merely  to  prevent  the  con 
summation  of  the  Spanish  match,  but  to  depose 
Queen  Mary  entirely,  and  to  raise  the  Lady 
Jane  to  the  throne.  However  this  may  be,  an 
extensive  and  formidable  conspiracy  was  form- 
ed. There  were  to  have  been  several  risings  in 
different  parts  of  the  kingdom.  They  all  failed 
except  the  one  which  Wyatt  himself  was  to 
head,  which  was  in  Kent,  in  the  southeastern 
part  of  the  country.  This  succeeded  so  far,  at 
least,  that  a  considerable  force  waa>  collected, 
and  began  to  advance  toward  London  from  th« 
•innthern  side 


92  QUEEN    ELIZABETH.  [  1554 

Wyatt  advance*  toward  London.  The  queen  retreat*  Into  the  rlty 

Queen  Mary  was  very  much  alarmed.  She 
had  no  armed  force  in  readiness  to  encounter 
this  danger.  She  sent  messengers  across  th« 
Thames  and  down  the  river  to  meet  Wyatt, 
who  was  ad\anoing  at  the  head  of  four  thou- 
sand men,  to  ask  what  it  was  that  he  demand- 
ed He  replied  that  the  queen  must  be  deliv- 
ered up  as  his  prisoner,  and  also  the  Tower  of 
London  be  surrendered  to  him.  This  showed 
that  his  plan  was  to  depose  the  queen.  Mary 
rejected  these  proposals  at  once,  and,  having  n« 
force*  to  meet  this  new  enemy,  she-had  to  re- 
treat from  Westminster  into  the  city  of  London 
and  here  sne  took  refuge  in  the  city  hall,  called 
the  Guildhall,  and  put  herself  under  the  protec- 
tion of  the  city  authorities.  Some  of  her  friends 
urged  her  to  take  shelter  in  the  Tower ;  but  she 
had  more  confidence,  she  said,  in  the  faithfulness 
and  loyalty  of  her  subjects  than  in  castle  walls. 

Wyatt  continued  to  advance  He  was  still 
upon  the  south  side  of  the  river.  There  wa* 
but  one  bridge  across  the  Thames,  at  London, 
in  those  days,  though  there  are  half  a  dozen  now, 
and  this  one  was  so  strongly  barricaded  and 
guarded  that  Wyatt  did  not  dare  to  attempt  to 
cross  it  He  went  up  the  river,  therefore,  to 
cross  at  a  higher  point;  and  this 


1654.]        THE   SPANISH  MATCH.  93 

IVjratt  carrenden  Tb«  Duke  of  Suffolk  tent  to  thn  Tow«r 

•evera  accidental  circumstances  which  occur- 
red, detained  him  so  long  that  a  considerable 
force  had  been  got  together  to  receive  him  when 
ie  was  ready  to  enter  the  city.  He  pushed  bold- 
•y  on  into  the  narrow  streets,  which  received  him 
like  a  trap  or  a  snare.  The  city  troops  hemmed 
ap  his  way  after  he  had  entered.  They  barri- 
caded the  streets,  they  shut  the  gates,  and  arm- 
ed men  poured  in  to  take  possession  of  all  the  av- 
enues. Wyatt  depended  upon  finding  the  peo- 
ple of  London  on  his  side.  They  turned,  in- 
stead, against  him.  All  hope  of  success  in  his 
enterprise,  and  all  possibility  of  escape  from  his 
own  awful  danger,  disappeared  together.  A 
herald  came  from  the  queen's  officer  calling  upon 
him  to  surrender  himself  quietly,  and  save  the 
effusion  of  blood.  He  surrendered  in  an  agony 
of  terror  and  despair. 

The  Duke  of  Suffolk  learned  these  facts  in 
another  county,  where  he  was  endeavoring  to 
raise  a  force  to  aid  Wyatt.  He  immediately 
fled,  and  hid  himself  in  the  house  of  one  of  nil 
domestics.  He  was  betrayed,  however,  seized, 
and  sent  to  the  Tower.  Many  other  promi- 
nent actors  in  the  insurrection  were  arrested, 
and  the  others  fled  in  all  directions,  wherevai 
they  could  find  concealment  or  safety. 


94  (-IUEEN    ELIZABETH.  [1554 

Beheading  of  L«dy  Jane  Grey.  Her  heroic  fortitude. 

Lady  Jane's  life  had  been  spared  thus  far,  al- 
though she  had  been,  in  fact,  guilty  of  treason 
against  Mary  by  the  former  attempt  to  take 
the  crown.  She  now,  however,  two  days  aftei 
the  capture  of  Wyatt,  received  word  that  she 
must  prepare  to  die.  She  was,  of  course,  sur- 
prised and  shocked  at  the  suddenness  of  this  an- 
nouncement; but  she  soon  regained  her  com- 
posure, and  passed  through  the  awful  scenes 
preceding  her  death  with  a  fortitude  amounting 
to  heroism,  which  was  very  astonishing  in  one 
so  young.  Her  husband  was  to  die  too.  He 
was  beheaded  first,  and  she  saw  the  headless 
body,  as  it  was  brought  back  from  the  place  of 
execution,  before  her  turn  came.  She  acknowl- 
edged her  guilt  in  having  attempted  to  seize  her 
cousin's  crown.  As  the  attempt  to  seize  this 
crown  failed^  mankind  consider  her  technically 
guilty.  If  it  had  succeeded,  Mary,  instead  of 
Jane,  would  have  been  the  traitor  who  would 
have  died  for  attempting  criminally  to  usurp  t 
throne. 

In  the  mean  time  Wyatt  and  Suffolk  re. 
mained  prisoners  in  the  Tower.  Suffolk  wa* 
overwhelmed  with  remorse  and  sorrow  at  hav- 
ing been  the  means,  by  his  selfish  ambition,  of 
the  cruel  death  of  so  innocent  and  lovelv  a  child 


1554.]        THE   SPANISH  MATCH,  9fl 

Death  of  Suffolk.      Imprisonment  of  Ell*«beth.       Execution  of  Wy*L 

He  did  not  suffer  this  anguish  long,  however, 
for  five  days  after  his  son  and  Lady  Jano  were 
executed,  his  head  fell  too  from  the  block. 
Wyatt  was  reserved  a  little  longer. 

He  was  more  formally  tried,  and  in  his  ex- 
amination he  asserted  that  the  Princess  Eliza- 
beth was  involved  in  the  conspiracy.  Officers 
were  immediately  sent  to  arrest  Elizabeth. 
She  was  taken  to  a  royal  palace  at  Westmin- 
ster, just  above  London,  called  Whitehall,  and 
shut  up  there  in  close  confinement,  and  no  one 
was  allowed  to  visit  her  or  speak  to  her.  The 
particulars  of  this  imprisonment  will  be  de- 
scribed more  fully  in  the  next  chapter.  Fifty 
or  sixty  common  conspirators,  not  worthy  of 
being  beheaded  with  an  ax,  were  hanged,  and 
a  company  of  six  hundred  more  were  brought, 
their  hands  tied,  and  halters  about  their  necks, 
a  miserable  gang,  into  Mary's  presence,  before 
her  palace,  to  be  pardoned.  Wyatt  was  then 
executed.  When  he  came  to  die,  however,  he 
retracted  what  he  had  alleged  of  Elizabeth.  He 
declared  that  she  was  entirely  innocent  oi  any 
participation  in  the  scheme  of  rebellion.  Eliza- 
beth's friends  believe  that  he  accused  her  be- 
cause he  supposed  that  such  a  charge  would  be 
agreeable  to  Mary,  and  that  he  should  himself 


96  QUEEN    ELIZABETH.  [1554 

The  wedding  plan  proceed*.  Hostility  of  the  lallur* 

be  more  leniently  treated  in  consequence  of  it, 
bat  that  when  at  last  he  found  that  sacrificing 
her  would  not  save  him,  his  guilty  conscience 
scourged  him  into  doing  her  justice  in  his  last 
hours. 

All  obstacles  to  the  wedding  were  now  appa 
rently  removed ;  for,  after  the  failure  of  Wyatt's 
rebellion,  nobody  dared  to  make  any  open  oppo- 
sition to  the  plans  of  the  queen,  though  there 
was  still  abundance  of  secret  dissatisfaction. 
Mary  was  now  very  impatient  to  have  the  mar- 
riage carried  into  effect.  A  new  Parliament 
was  called,  and  its  concurrence  in  the  plan  ob 
tained.  Mary  ordered  a  squadron  of  ships  tc 
be  fitted  out  and  sent  to  Spain,  to  convey  the 
bridegroom  to  England.  The  admiral  who  had 
command  of  this  fleet  wrote  to  her  that  the 
sailors  were  so  hostile  to  Philip  that  he  did  not 
think  it  was  safe  for  her  to  intrust  him  to  their 
hands.  Mary  then  commanded  this  force  to  be 
dismissed,  in  order  to  arrange  some  other  way 
to  bring  Philip  over.  She  was  then  full  of  anx- 
iety and  apprehension  lest  some  accident  might 
befall  him.  His  ship  might  be  wrecked,  or  he 
might  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  Frencn,  who 
were  not  at  all  well  disposed  toward  the  match, 
Her  thoughts  and  her  conversation  were  run- 


1554.)  THE   SPANISH  MATCH.        97 

Mary's  fears  nod  complainings.  Philip  lands  at  Southampton 


ning  upon  this  topio  all  the  time.  She 
restless  by  day  and  sleepless  by  night,  until 
her  health  was  at  last  seriously  impaired,  j,nd 
her  friends  began  really  to  fear  that  she  might 
lose  her  reason.  She  was  very  anxious,  too,  lest 
Philip  should  find  her  beauty  so  impaired  by 
her  years,  and  by  the  state  of  her  health,  that 
bhe  should  fail,  when  Le  arrived,  of  becoming 
<*he  object  of  his  lo>  e. 

In  fact,  she  complained  .il,  eady  that  Philip 
neglected  her.  He  did  not  \vrite  to  her,  or  ex» 
press  in  any  way  the  interest  and  affection 
which  she  thought  ought  to  be  awakened  in  his 
mind  by  a  bride  who,  as  she  expressed  it,  was  go- 
ing to  bring  a  kingdom  for  a  dowry.  This  sort 
»f  cold  and  haughty  demeanor  was,  however,  in 
keeping  with  the  self-importance  and  the  pride 
which  then  often  marked  the  Spanish  charac- 
ter, and  which,  in  Philip  particularly,  always 
seemed  to  be  extreme. 

At  length  the  time  arrived  for  his  embarka- 
tion. He  sailed  across  the  Bay  of  Biscay,  and 
ip  the  English  Channel  until  he  reached  South 
arr.pton,  a  famous  port  on  the  southern  coast  t  f 
England.  There  he  landed  with  great  pomp 
and  parade.  He  assumed  a  very  proud  and 
stately  bearing,  which  made  a  very  anfavorable 
26—7 


96  QUEEN   ELIZABETH.          [1555. 

Ptft  Jjr'i  proud  and  haughty  demeanor.  The  marriage  ceremony. 

impression  upon  the  English  people  who  had 
been  sent  by  Queen  Mary  to  receive  him.  He 
drew  his  sword  when  he  landed,  and  walked 
about  with  it,  for  a  time,  in  a  very  pompouf 
manner,  holding  the  sword  unsheathed  in  hi* 
hand,  the  crowd  of  by-standers  that  had  collect- 
ed to  witness  the  spectacle  of  the  landing  look- 
ing on  all  the  time,  and  wondering  what  such 
an  action  could  be  intended  to  intimate.  It  was 
probably  intended  simply  to  make  them  wonder. 
The  authorities  of  Southampton  had  arranged 
it  to  come  in  procession  to  meet  Philip,  and 
present  him  with  the  keys  of  the  gates,  an  em- 
blem of  an  honorable  reception  into  the  city. 
Philip  received  the  keys,  but  did  not  deign  a 
word  of  reply.  The  distance  and  reserve  which 
it  had  been  customary  to  maintain  between  the 
English  sovereigns  and  their  people  was  always 
pretty  strongly  marked,  but  Philip's  loftiness 
and  grandeur  seemed  to  surpass  all  bounds. 

Mary  went  two  thirds  of  the  way  from  Lon- 
don to  the  coast  to  meet  the  bridegroom.  Here 
the  marriage  ceremony  was  performed,  and  the 
whole  party  came,  with  great;  parade  and  re- 
joicings, back  to  London,  and  Mary,  satisfied 
*nd  happy,  took  up  her  abode  with  her  new  lord 
in  Windsor  Castle 


1555.]        THE   SPANISH   MATCH.  99 

Philip  aband  >ns  Mary.  Her  replningB.  Her  dnadr. 

The  poor  queen  was,  however,  in  the  end,  sad- 
ly disappointed  in  her  husband.  He  felt  no  love 
for  her ;  he  was  probably,  in  fact,  incapable  of 
love.  He  remained  in  England  a  year,  and  then, 
growing  weary  of  his  wife  and  of  his  adopted 
country,  he  went  back  to  Spain  again,  greatly 
to  Queen  Mary's  vexation  and  chagrin.  They 
were  both  extremely  disappointed  in  not  hav- 
ing children.  Philip's  motive  for  marrying 
Mary  was  ambition  wholly,  and  not  love  ;  and 
when  he  found  that  an  heir  to  inherit  the  two 
kingdoms  was  not  to  be  expected,  he  treated  hia 
unhappy  wife  with  great  neglect  and  cruelty 
and  finally  went  away  from  her  altogether.  He 
oame  back  again,  it  is  true,  a  year  afterward, 
but  it  was  only  to  compel  Mary  to  join  with  him 
in  a  war  against  France.  He  told  her  that,  if 
she  would  not  do  this,  he  would  go  away  from 
England  and  never  see  her  again.  Mary  yield- 
ed ;  but  at  length,  harassed  and  worn  down  with 
useless  regrets  and  repinings,  her  mental  suf» 
ferings  are  supposed  to  have  shortened  her  days 
She  died  miserably  a  few  years  after  her  mar- 
riage, and  thus  the  Spanish  match  turned  out 
to  be  a  very  unfortunate  match  indeed. 


lOO  QUEEN   LLIZABETR.  [1554 

ilHlnlfi  position.  LHitimacy  of  Mary  and  EUaabeth'i  Mrtk 


CHAPTER   V. 
ELIZABETH  IN  THE   TOWEK. 

fflHE  imprisonment  01  l^ueen  Elizabeth  in 
L  the  Tower,  which  was  briefly  alluded  to  in 
the  last  chapter,  deserves  a  more  full  narration 
than  was  possible  to  give  to  it  there.  She  had  re- 
tired from  court  some  time  before  the  difficulties 
about  the  Spanish  match  arose.  It  is  true  that 
she  took  sides  with  Mary  in  the  contest  with 
Northumberland  and  the  friends  of  Jane  Grey, 
and  she  shared  her  royal  sister's  triumph  in  the 
pomp  and  parade  of  the  coronation ;  but,  after  all, 
she  and  Mary  could  not  pos^ioly  be  very  good 
friends.  The  marriages  of  their  respective  moth 
ere  could  not  both  have  been  valid.  Henry  the 
Eighth  was  so  impatient  that  he  could  not  wail 
for  a  divorce  from  Catharine  before  he  married 
Anne  Boleyn.  The  only  way  to  make  the  lat- 
ter marriage  legal,  therefore,  was  to  consider  th* 
former  one  null  and  void  from  the  beginning , 
and  if  the  former  one  was  not  thus  null  and  void, 
the  latter  must  be  so.  If  Henry  had  waited  for 
a  divorce,  then  both  marriages  might  have  been 


554. t   KLIZABETH   IN  THE  Towen.       101 

Vary  and  Elizabeth'*  difference*.  Courteney's  long  Imprisonment 

valid,  each  for  the  time  of  its  own  continuance, 
end  both  the  princesses  might  have  been  lawful 
heirs ;  but  as  it  was,  neither  of  them  could 
maintain  her  own  claims  to  be  considered  a  law- 
fa!  daughter,  without  denying,  by  implication 
at  least,  those  of  the  other.  They  were  there- 
fore, as  it  were,  natural  enemies.  Though  they 
might  be  outwardly  civil  to  each  other,  it  was 
not  possible  that  there  could  be  any  true  har- 
mony or  frnnlship  between  them. 

A  circumstance  occurred,  too,  soon  after 
Mary's  accession  to  the  throne,  which  result- 
ed in  openly  alienating  the  feelings  of  the  two 
ladies  from  each  other.  There  was  a  certain 
prisoner  in  the  Tower  of  London,  a  gentleman 
of  high  rank  and  great  consideration,  named 
Courteney,  now  about  twenty-six  years  of  age, 
who  had  been  imprisoned  in  the  Tower  by  King 
Henry  the  Eighth  when  he  was  only  twelve 
fears  old,  on  account  of  some  political  offenses 
»f  his  father !  He  had  thus  been  a  close  pii*. 
«*ner  for  fourteen  years  at  Mary's  accession  ;  but 
Mary  released  him.  It  was  found,  when  he  re- 
turned to  society  again,  that  he  had  employed 
his  solitary  hours  in  cultivating  his  mind,  ac- 
quiring knowledge,  and  availing  himself  of  all 
the  opportunities  for  improvement  which  hi* 


102  QUEEN    ELIZABETH.          [1554. 

Mary 's  attentions  to  Courteney.        Courteney's  attentions  to  Elizabeth. 

situation  afforded,  and  that  lie  came  forth  an 
intelligent,  accomplished,  and  very  agreeable 
man.  The  interest  which  his  appearance  and 
manners  excited  was  increased  by  the  sympa- 
thy naturally  felt  for  the  sufferings  that  he  had 
endured.  In  a  word,  he  became  a  general  favor- 
ite. The  rank  of  his  family  was  high  enough 
for  Mary  to  think  of  him  for  her  husband,  for 
this  was  before  the  Spanish  match  was  thought 
of.  Mary  granted  him  a  title,  and  large  estates, 
and  showed  him  many  other  favors,  and,  as 
every  body  supposed,  tried  very  hard  to  make 
an  impression  on  his  heart.  Her  efforts  were, 
however,  vain.  Courteney  gave  an  obvious  pref- 
erence to  Elizabeth,  who  was  young  then,  at 
least,  if  not  beautiful.  This  successful  rivalry 
on  the  part  of  her  sister  filled  the  queen's  heart 
with  resentment  and  envy,  and  she  exhibited 
her  chagrin  by  so  many  little  marks  of  neglect 
and  incivility,  that  Elizabeth's  resentment  was 
roused  in  its  turn,  and  she  asked  permission  to 
retire  from  court  to  her  residence  in  the  coun- 
try. Mary  readily  gave  the  permission,  and 
thus  it  happened  that  when  Wyatt's  rebellion 
first  broke  out,  as  described  in  the  last  chapter, 
Elizabeth  was  living  in  retirement  and  seclu- 
sion at  Ashridge,  an  estate  of  hers  at  some  dis- 


1554.]    ELIZABETH    IN    THE    TOWER.          103 

Mary's  plan  to  get  Elizabeth  In  her  power.  Elizabeth'*  warlneM. 

tance  west  of  London.  As  to  Courteney,  Mar? 
found  some  pretext  or  other  foi  sending  him 
back  again  to  his  prison  in  the  Tower. 

Mary  was  immediately  afraid  that  the  mal- 
eontents  would  join  with  Elizabeth  and  attempt 
to  put  forward  her  name  and  her  claims  to  the 
crown,  which,  if  they  were  to  do,  it  would  make 
their  movement  very  formidable.  She  was  im- 
pressed immediately  with  the  idea  that  it  was 
of  great  importance  to  get  Elizabeth  back  again 
into  her  power.  The  most  probable  way  of 
succeeding  in  doing  this,  she  thought,  was  to 
write  her  a  kind  and  friendly  letter,  inviting  her 
to  return.  She  accordingly  wrote  such  a  letter 
She  said  in  it  that  certain  evil-disposed  persons 
were  plotting  some  disturbances  in  the  kingdom, 
and  that  she  thought  that  Elizabeth  was  not 
safe  where  she  was.  She  urged  her,  therefore, 
to  return,  saying  that  she  should  be  truly  wel- 
come, and  should  be  protected  against  all  dan- 
ger if  she  would  come. 

An  invitation  from  a  queen  is  a  command, 
ind  Elizabeth  would  have  felt  bound  to  obey 
this  summons,  but  she  was  sick  when  it  came. 
At  least  she  was  not  well,  and  she  was  not 
much  disposed  to  underrate  her  sickness  for  th« 
•take  of  being  able  to  travel  on  this  occasion. 


104  <4,UEEN   ELIZABETH.  [I.'    ... 

Wymtt  MCMM  EtiMbeth.  HOT  wixmr*. 

The  officers  of  her  household  made  out  a  formal 
certificate  to  the  effect  that  Elizabeth  was  not 
able  to  undertake  such  a  journey. 

In  the  mean  time  Wyatt's  rebellion  broke 
oot;  he  marched  to  London,  was  entrapped 
there  and  taken  prisoner,  as  is  related  at  length 
in  the  last  chapter.  In  his  confessions  he  im- 
plicated the  Princess  Elizabeth,  and  also  Courte- 
ney,  and  Mary's  government  then  determined 
that  they  must  sec 'lie  Elizabeth's  person  at  all 
events,  sick  or  well.  They  sent,  therefore,  three 
gentlemen  as  commissioners,  with  a  troop  of 
horse  to  attend  them,  to  bring  her  to  London. 
They  Berried  the  queen's  litter  with  them,  to 
bring  tho  princess  upon  it  in  case  she  should 
be  f  and  unable  to  travel  in  any  other  way. 

Thr  party  arrived  at  Ashridge  at  ten  o'clock 
at  night  They  insisted  on  being  admitted  at 
on5e  into  the  chamber  of  Elizabeth,  and  there 
th««y  made  known  their  errand.  Elizabeth  wa« 
te;»:<ied;  she  begged  not  to  be  moved,  as  she 
*ra»  really  too  sick  to  go.  They  called  in  seme 
:i  ysioians,  who  certified  that  she  could  be  moved 
wi  hout  danger  to  her  life.  The  next  morning 
th<  v  ut  her  upon  the  litter,  a  sort  of  covered 
bed,  formed  like  a  palanquin,  and  borne,  like  a 
palanquin,  by  men.  It  was  twenty-nine  miles 


1654.]  ELIZABETH   lit  THE  TOWER.      105 

Elizabeth  borne  in  a  Utter.  She  it  examined  end  reloMed. 

to  London,  and  it  took  the  party  four  days  to 
reach  the  city,  they  moved  so  slowly.  This  cir- 
cumstance is  mentioned  sometimes  as  showing 
how  sick  Elizabeth  must  have  been.  But  the 
feet  is,  there  was  no  reason  whatever  for  any 
haste.  Elizabeth  was  now  completely  in  Mary's 
power,  and  it  could  make  no  possible  difference 
how  long  she  was  upon  the  road. 

The  litter  cassed  along  the  roads  in  great 
state.  Jt  was  a  princess  that  they  were  bear- 
ing. As  they  approached  London,  a  hundred 
men  in  handsome  uniforms  went  before,  and  an 
equal  number  followed.  A  great  many  people 
came  out  from  the  city  to  meet  the  princess,  as 
a  token  of  respect.  This  displeased  Mary,  but 
it  could  not  well  be  prevented  or  punished.  On 
their  arrival  they  took  Elizabeth  to  one  of  the 
palaces  at  Westminster,  called  Whitehall.  She 
was  examined  by  Mary's  privy  council.  Noth- 
ing was  proved  against  her,  and,  as  the  rebellion 
seemed  now  wholly  at  an  end,  she  was  at  length 
released,  and  thus  ended  her  first  durance  as  a 
political  prisoner. 

It  happened,  however,  that  other  persons  im- 
plicated in  Wyatt's  plot,  when  examined,  made 
charges  against  Elizabeth  in  respect  to  it,  and 
Queen  Mary  sent  ancther  force  and  arrested 


106  QCEEN   ELIZABETH.          [1554 

EliMbeth  •#*!•  arrectad.  Bar  tatter  to  M»ry 

her  again.  She  was  taken  now  to  a  famoua 
royal  palace,  called  Hampton  Court,  which  Ls 
situated  on  the  Thames,  a  few  miles  above  the 
city.  She  brought  many  of  the  officers  of  her 
household  and  of  her  personal  attendants  with 
her ;  but  one  of  the  queen's  ministers,  accom- 
panied by  two  other  officers,  came  soon  after, 
and  dismissed  all  her  own  attendants,  and  placed 
persons  in  the  service  of  the  queen  in  their  place. 
They  also  set  a  guard  around  the  palace,  and 
then  left  the  princess,  for  the  night,  a  close 
prisoner,  and  yet  without  any  visible  signs  of 
coercion,  for  all  these  guards  might  be  guards 
of  honor. 

The  next  day  some  officers  came  again,  and 
told  her  that  it  had  been  decided  to  send  her  to 
the  Tower,  and  that  a  barge  was  ready  at  the 
river  to  convey  her.  She  was  very  muoh  agi- 
tated and  alarmed,  and  begged  to  be  allowed  to 
serd  a  letter  to  her  sister  before  they  took  her 
a^ay.  One  of  the  officers  insisted  that  she 
ahould  have  the  privilege,  and  the  other  that 
she  shiiuld  not.  The  former  conquered  in  the 
contest,  and  Elizabeth  wrote  the  letter  and  sent 
it.  It  contained  an  earnest  and  solemn  disavow- 
al  of  all  participation  in  the  plots  which  she  had 
been  charged  with  encouraging,  and  begged 


1554.]  ELIZABETH  IN  THE  TOWER.      107 

Situation  of  the  Tower.  The  Traitors'  Gate. 

Mary  to  believe  that  she  was  innocent,  and  al- 
low her  to  be  released. 

The  letter  did  no  good.  Elizabeth  was  tak- 
en into  the  barge  and  conveyed  in  a  very  pri- 
vate manner  down  the  river.  Hampton  Court 
is  above  London,  several  miles,  and  the  Tower 
is  just  below  the  city.  There  are  several  en- 
trances to  this  vast  castle,  some  of  them  by 
stairs  from  the  river.  Among  these  is  one  by 
which  prisoners  accused  of  great  political  crimes 
were  usually  taken  in,  and  which  is  called  the 
Traitors'  Gate.  There  was  another  entrance, 
also,  from  the  river,  by  which  a  more  honorable 
admission  to  the  fortress  might  be  attained.  The 
Tower  was  not  solely  a  prison.  It  was  often  a 
place  of  retreat  for  kings  and  queens  from  any 
sudden  danger,  and  was  frequently  occupied 
by  them  as  a  somewhat  permanent  residence. 
There  were  a  great  number  of  structures  with- 
in the  walls,  in  some  of  which  royal  apartments 
were  fitted  up  with  great  splendor.  Elizabeth 
had  often  been  in  the  Tower  as  a  resident  or 
a  visitor,  and  thus  far  there  was  nothing  in  the 
circumstances  of  the  case  to  forbid  the  supposi- 
tion that  they  might  be  taking  her  there  as  a 
guest  or  resident  now.  She  was  anxious  and 
uneasy,  it  is  true,  but  she  was  not  certain  that 
she  was  regarded  as  a  prisoner. 


108  t^uEEN  ELIZABETH.  (1&54 


CttMbeth  cooTeyed  to  the  Tower.      She  la  landed  at  the  Traitors'  Gate 

In  the  mean  time,  the  barge,  with  the  otnei 
boats  in  attendance,  passed  down  the  river  in 
the  rain,  for  it  was  a  stormy  day,  a  circum- 
stance which  aided  the  authorities  in  their  ef- 
fort to  convey  their  captive  to  her  gloomy  pris- 
»n  without  attracting  the  attention  of  the  pop- 
ulace. Besides,  it  was  the  day  of  some  great 
religious  festival,  when  the  people  were  gener- 
ally in  the  churches.  This  day  had  been  cho- 
sen on  that  very  account.  The  barge  and  the 
boats  came  down  the  river,  therefore,  without 
attracting  much  attention  ;  they  approached  the 
landing-place  at  last,  and  stopped  at  the  flight 
of  steps  leading  up  from  the  water  to  the  Trai- 
tors' Irate. 

Elizabeth  declared  that  she  was  no  traitor, 
and  that  she  would  not  be  landed  there.  Th« 
nobleman  who  had  charge  of  her  told  her  sim- 
ply, in  reply,  that  she  could  not  have  her  choice 
of  a  place  to  land.  At  the  same  time,  he  offered 
hei  his  cloak  to  protect  her  from  the  rain  in  pass- 
bag  from  the  barge  to  the  castle  gate.  Umbrel- 
las had  not  been  invented  in  those  days.  Elia- 
abeth  threw  the  cloak  away  from  her  in  vexa- 
tion and  anger.  She  found,  however,  that  it 
wa*  of  no  use  to  resist.  She  could  not  choose. 
&he  stepped  from  the  barge  out  upon  the  stain 


1554.]  ELIZABETH   iff  THE   TOWEF       109 

KBnbrth't  reception  &t  the  Tower.  Her  vnwilliagneM  to  en*> 

in  the  rain,  saying,  as  she  did  so,  "  Here  landi 
as  true  and  faithful  a  subject  as  ever  landed  • 
prisoner  at  these  stairs.  Before  thee,  O  God,  I 
speak  it,  having  now  no  friends  but  thee  alone." 

A  large  company  of  the  warders  and  keepers 
of  the  castle  had  been  drawn  up  at  the  Traitors' 
Gate  to  receive  her,  as  was  customary  on  occa- 
sions when  prisoners  of  high  rank  were  to  en- 
ter the  Tower.  As  these  men  were  always 
dressed  in  uniform  of  a  peculiar  antique  char- 
acter, such  a  parade  of  them  made  quite  an  im- 
posing appearance.  Elizabeth  asked  what  it 
meant.  Tht>y  told  her  that  that  was  the  cu»- 
tomary  mode  ol  receiving  a  prisoner.  She  said 
that  if  it  was,  she  hoped  that  they  would  dis- 
pense with  the  ceremony  in  her  case,  and  ask- 
ed that,  for  her  sake,  the  men  might  be  dismiss- 
ed from  such  attendance  in  so  inclement  a  sea- 
son. The  men  blessed  her  for  her  goodness,  and 
kneeled  down  and  prayed  that  God  would  pre 
terve  her. 

She  was  extremely  unwilling  to  go  into  tb« 
prison.  As  they  approached  the  part  of  the  ed- 
ifice where  she  was  to  be  confined,  through  the 
court-yard  of  the  Tower,  she  stopped  and  sat 
down  upon  a  stone,  perhaps  a  step,  or  the  curb 
•tone  of  a  walk.  The  lieutenant  urged  her  to 


110  QUEEN   ELIZABETH  [1554. 


EUttbodTi  ln<fl«nmtio«  wd  friet  She  ti  clotty  tmprUone* 

go  in  out  of  the  cold  and  wet.  "  Bettor  sitting 
here  than  in  a  worse  place,"  she  replied,  "  for 
God  knoweth  whither  you  are  bringing  me." 
However,  she  rose  and  went  on.  She  entered 
the  prison,  was  conducted  to  her  room,  and  the 
doors  were  locked  and  bolted  upon  her. 

Elizabeth  was  kept  closely  imprisoned  for  a 
month ;  after  that,  some  little  relaxation  in  the 
strictness  of  her  seclusion  was  allowed.  Per- 
mission was  very  reluctantly  granted  to  her  to 
walk  every  day  in  the  royal  apartments,  which 
were  now  unoccupied,  so  that  there  was  no  so- 
ciety to  be  found  there,  but  it  afforded  her  a 
sort  of  pleasure  to  range  through  them  for  rec- 
reation and  exercise.  But  this  privilege  could 
not  be  accorded  without  very  strict  limitations 
and  conditions.  Two  officers  of  the  Tower  and 
three  women  had  to  attend  her ;  the  window*, 
too,  were  shut,  and  she  was  not  permitted  to 
go  and  look  out  at  them.  This  was  rather  mel- 
ancholy recreation,  it  must  be  allowed,  but  it 
was  better  than  being  shut  up  all  day  in  a  sin- 
gle apartment,  bolted  and  barred. 

There  was  a  small  garden  within  the  castle 
not  far  from  the  prison,  and  after  some  time 
Elizabeth  was  permitted  to  walk  there.  Tna 
pates  and  doors,  however,  were  kept  carefully 


1554.]  ELIZABETH  iw  THE  TOWEE       113 

EBxaboth  in  the  garden.  The  Httto  child  and  the  flower* 

closed,  and  all  the  prisoners,  whose  rooms  looked 
Into  it  from  the  surrounding  buildings,  were 
closely  watched  by  their  respective  keepers, 
while  Elizabeth  was  in  the  garden,  to  prevent 
their  having  any  communication  with  her  by 
ooks  or  signs.  There  were  a  great  many  per- 
sons confined  at  this  time,  who  had  been  ar- 
rested on  charges  connected  with  Wyatt's  re- 
bellion, and  the  authorities  seem  to  have  been 
rery  specially  vigilant  to  prevent  the  possibil- 
ity of  Elizabeth's  having  communication  with 
any  of  them.  There  was  a  little  child  of  five 
years  of  age  who  used  to  come  and  visit  Eliza- 
beth in  her  room,  and  bring  her  flowers.  He 
was  the  son  of  one  of  the  subordinate  officers 
of  the  Tower.  It  was,  however,  at  last  suspect- 
ed that  he  was  acting  as  a  messenger  between 
Elizabeth  and  Courteney.  Courteney,  it  will 
be  recollected,  had  been  sent  by  Mary  back  to 
the  Tower  again,  so  that  he  and  Elizabeth  were 
now  suffering  the  same  hard  fate  in  neighbor- 
ing cells.  When  the  boy  was  suspected  of  bear- 
Ing  communications  between  these  friends  and 
companions  in  suffering,  he  was  called  before 
an  officer  and  closely  examined.  His  answer* 
were  all  open  and  childlike,  and  gave  no  con- 
firmation to  the  idea  which  had  bean  entertain* 
26—8 


114  QUEEN   ELIZABETH.  [1554 

CUmbeth  greatly  alarmed.  Her  removal  from  the  Town* 

ed.  The  child,  however,  was  forbidden  to  go 
to  Elizabeth's  apartment  any  more.  He  WM 
Tory  much  grieved  at  this,  and  he  watched  foi 
the  next  time  that  Elizabeth  was  to  walk  in 
the  garden,  and  putting  his  mouth  to  a  hole  in 
the  gate,  he  called  out,  "  Lady,  I  can  not  bring 
you  any  more  flowers." 

After  Elizabeth  had  been  thus  confined  about 
three  months,  she  was  one  day  terribly  alarmed 
by  the  sounds  of  martial  parade  within  the  Tow- 
er,  produced  by  the  entrance  of  an  officer  from 
Queen  Mary,  named  Sir  Thomas  Beddingfield, 
at  the  head  of  three  hundred  men.  Elizabeth 
supposed  that  they  were  come  to  execute  sen- 
tence of  death  upon  her.  She  asked  immedi- 
ately if  the  platform  on  which  Lady  Jane  Grey 
was  beheaded  had  been  taken  away.  They 
told  her  that  it  had  been  removed.  She  waa 
then  somewhat  relieved.  They  afterward  told 
her  that  Sir  Thomas  had  come  to  take  her  awaj 
"rom  the  Tower,  but  that  it  was  not  known 
where  she  was  to  go.  This  alarmed  her  again, 
and  she  sent  for  the  constable  of  the  Tower, 
whose  name  was  Lord  Chandos,  and  questioned 
him  very  closely  to  learn  what  they  were  going 
to  do  with  her.  He  said  that  it  had  been  de- 
*ided  to  remove  her  from  the  Tower,  and  send 


1554.]  ELIZABETH  IN   THE   TOWER.      115 

Elizabeth's  tear*.  Mary'i  design* 

her  to  a  plaoe  called  Woodstock,  where  she  waa 
to  remain  under  Sir  Thomas  Beddingfield's  cus- 
tody, at  a  royal  palace  which  was  situated  there. 
Woodstock  is  forty  or  fifty  miles  to  the  west- 
ward •?  London,  and  not  far  from  the  city  of 
Oxfori. 

Elizabeth  was  very  much  alarmed  at  this  in- 
telligence. Her  mind  was  filled  with  vague 
and  uncertain  fears  and  forebodings,  which 
were  none  the  less  oppressive  for  being  uncer- 
tain and  vague.  She  had,  however,  no  imme- 
diate cause  for  apprehension.  Mary  found  that 
there  was  no  decisive  evidence  against  her,  and 
did  not  dare  to  keep  her  a  prisoner  in  the  Tow- 
er too  long.  There  was  a  large  and  influential 
part  of  the  kingdom  who  were  Protestants. 
They  were  jealous  of  the  progress  Mary  was 
making  toward  bringing  the  Catholic  religion 
in  again.  They  abhorred  the  Spanish  match. 
They  naturally  looked  to  Elizabeth  as  their  lead- 
er and  head,  and  Mary  thought  that  by  too  great 
or  too  long-continued  harshness  in  her  treat- 
ment of  Elizabeth,  she  would  only  exasperate 
them,  and  perhaps  provoke  a  new  outbreak 
against  her  authority.  She  determined,  there- 
fore, to  remove  the  princess  from  the  Tower  to 
tome  less  odious  place  of  confinement 


116  QUEEN  ELIZABETH.          [1554 

BUibeth  taken  to  Richmond.  Mary's  plan  for  marrying  tor 

She  was  taken  first  to  Queen  Mary's  court, 
which  was  then  held  at  Richmond,  just  above 
London ;  but  she  was  surrounded  here  by  sol- 
diers and  guards,  and  confined  almost  as  strict* 
ly  as  before  She  was  destined,  however,  here 
tc  another  surprise.  It  was  a  proposition  oi 
marriage.  Mary  had  been  arranging  a  plan 
for  making  her  the  wife  of  a  certain  personage 
styled  the  Duke  of  Savoy.  His  dominions  were 
on  the  confines  of  Switzerland  and  France,  and 
Mary  thought  that  if  her  rival  were  once  mar- 
ried  and  removed  there,  all  the  troubles  which 
she,  Mary,  had  experienced  on  her  account 
would  be  ended  forever.  She  thought,  too,  that 
her  sister  would  be  glad  to  accept  this  offer, 
which  opened  such  an  immediate  escape  from 
the  embarrassments  and  sufferings  of  her  situa- 
tion in  England.  But  Elizabeth  was  prompt, 
decided,  and  firm  in  the  rejection  of  this  plan. 
England  was  her  home,  and  to  be  Queen  of  En- 
gland  the  end  and  aim  of  all  her  wishes  and 
plans  She  had  rather  continue  a  captive  for 
the  present  in  her  native  land,  than  to  live  in 
splendor  as  the  consort  of  a  sovereign  duke  be- 
yond the  Rhone. 

Mary  then  ordered  Sir  Thomas  Beddingfield 
to  take  her  to  Woodstock.     She  traveled  on 


l554.]    ELIZABETH    IN    THE     ToWEB.       117 

Blxabeth'i  Journey  to  Woodstock.  Christnuu  feativitie* 

horseback,  and  was  several  days  on  the  journey 
Her  passage  through  the  country  attracted  great 
Attention.  The  people  assembled  by  tfte  way- 
aide,  expressing  their  kind  wishes,  and  offering 
her  gifts.  The  bells  were  rung  in  the  village* 
through  which  she  passed.  She  arrived  finally 
at  Woodstock,  and  was  shut  up  in  the  palace 
there. 

This  was  in  July,  and  she  remained  in  Wood- 
stock  more  than  a  year,  not,  however,  always 
very  closely  confined.  At  Christmas  she  was 
taken  to  court,  and  allowed  to  share  in  the  fes- 
tivities and  rejoicings.  On  this  occasion— it 
was  the  first  Christmas  after  the  marriage  of 
Mary  and  Philip— the  great  hall  of  the  palace 
was  illuminated  with  a  thousand  lamps.  The 
princess  sat  at  table  next  to  the  king  and  queen. 
She  was  on  other  occasions,  too,  taken  away 
for  a  time,  and  then  returned  again  to  her  se- 
clusion at  Woodstock.  These  changes,  perhaps, 
only  served  to  make  her  feel  more  than  ever  the 
hardships  of  her  lot.  They  say  that  one  day, 
as  she  sat  at  her  window,  she  heard  a  milk* 
maid  singing  in  the  fields,  in  a  blithe  and  mer- 
ry strain,  and  said,  with  a  sigh,  that  she  wished 
she  was  a  milk-maid  too. 

King  Philip,  after  his  marriage,  gradually 


118  QUEEN  ELIZABETH.          [1555 

BlMbeth  pent«U  in  her  innocence.  The  torch-light  Ttdt 

interested  himself  in  her  behalf,  and  exorted  hia 
influence  to  have  her  released ;  and  Mary's  min- 
isters had  frequent  interviews  with  her,  and  en- 
deavored b  induce  her  to  make  some  confession 
of  guilt,  and  to  petition  Mary  for  release  as  a 
matter  of  mercy.  They  could  not,  they  said, 
release  her  while  she  persisted  in  her  innocence, 
without  admitting  that  they  and  Mary  had  been 
in  the  wrong,  and  had  imprisoned  her  unjustly. 
But  the  princess  was  immovable.  She  declar- 
ed that  she  was  perfectly  innocent,  and  that  she 
would  never,  therefore,  say  that  she  was  guilty. 
She  would  rather  remain  in  prison  for  the  truth, 
than  be  at  liberty  and  have  it  believed  that  she 
had  been  guilty  of  disloyalty  and  treason. 

At  length,  one  evening  in  May,  Elizabeth 
received  a  summons  to  go  to  the  palace  and 
yisit  Mary  in  her  chamber.  She  was  conduct- 
ed there  by  torch-light.  She  had  a  long  inter- 
view with  the  queen,  the  conversation  being 
partly  in  English  and  partly  in  Spanish.  It  wat 
not  very  satisfactory  on  either  side.  Elizabeth 
persisted  in  asserting  her  innocence,  but  in 
other  respects  she  spoke  in  a  kind  and  concilia- 
tory  manner  to  the  queen.  The  interview  ended 
in  a  sort  of  reconciliation.  Mary  put  a  valua- 
ble ring  upon  Elizabeth's  finger  in  token  of  the 


1555.)    ELIZABETH    IN    THE    TOWER.          lli> 

Keconcilatlon  between  Eliaabeth  and  Mary.  Elizabeth'*  releue. 

renewal  of  friendship,  and  soon  afterward  the 
long  period  of  restraint  and  confinement  was 
ended,  and  the  princess  returned  to  her  own  es- 
tate at  Hatfield  in  Hertfordshire,  where  she 
lived  some  time  in  seclusion,  devoting  herself, 
ir.  a  great  measure,  to  the  study  of  Latin  and 
Greek,  under  the  instructions  of  Roger  Ascham. 


120  QUEEN   ELIZABETH.          [556 

Miry  «  uuluppy  rei«n.  Unrequited  IOT» 


CHAPTER  VI. 
ACCESSION  TO  THE  THRONE 

TF  it  were  the  story  of  Mary  instead  of  that 
"•  of  Elizabeth  that  we  were  following,  we 
should  have  now  to  pause  and  draw  a  very 
melancholy  pioture  of  the  scenes  which  dark- 
ened  the  close  of  the  queen's  unfortunate  and 
unnappy  history.  Mary  loved  her  husband,  but 
she  could  not  secure  his  love  in  return.  He 
treated  her  with  supercilious  coldness  and  neg- 
lect, and  evinced,  from  time  to  time,  a  degree 
of  interest  in  other  ladies  which  awakened  her 
jealousy  and  anger.  Of  all  the  terrible  convul- 
sions to  which  the  human  soul  is  subject,  there 
is  not  one  wb'ch  agitates  it  more  deeply  than 
the  tumult  of  feeling  produced  by  the  mingling 
of  resentment  and  love.  Such  a  mingling,  or, 
rather,  such  a  conflict,  between  passions  appa- 
lently  inconsistent  with  each  other,  is  generally 
considered  not  possible  by  those  who  have  nevei 
experienced  it.  But  it  is  possible.  It  is  possi 
ble  to  be  stung  with  a  sense  of  the  ingratitude, 
and  selfishness,  and  cruelty  of  an  object,  which, 


1555.]  ACCESSION  TO  THE  THRONE.      121 

Vary's  suffering*.  Her  religions  principle*. 

after  all,  the  heart  will  persist  in  clinging  to 
with  the  fondest  affection.  Vexation  and  anger, 
a  burning  sense  of  injury,  and  desire  for  revenge, 
on  the  one  hand,  and  feelings  of  love,  resistless 
and  uncontrollable,  and  bearing,  in  their  turn, 
all  before  them,  alternately  get  possession  of  the 
soul,  harrowing  and  devastating  it  in  their  aw- 
ful conflict,  and  even  sometimes  reigning  over 
it,  for  a  time,  in  a  temporary  but  dreadful  calm, 
like  that  of  two  wrestlers  who  pause  a  moment, 
exhausted  in  a  mortal  combat,  but  grappling 
each  other  with  deadly  energy  all  the  time, 
while  they  are  taking  breath  for  a  renewal  of 
the  conflict.  Queen  Mary,  in  one  of  these  par- 
oxysms, seized  a  portrait  of  her  husband  and 
tore  it  into  shreds.  The  reader,  who  has  his  or 
her  experience  in  affairs  of  the  heart  yet  to 
come,  will  say,  perhaps,  her  love  for  him  then 
must  have  been  all  gone.  No ;  it  was  at  its 
h  sight.  We  do  not  tear  the  portraits  of  those 
who  are  indifferent  to  us. 

At  the  beginning  of  her  reign,  and,  in  fact, 
during  all  the  previous  periods  of  her  life,  Mary 
had  been  an  honest  and  conscientious  Catholic. 
She  undoubtedly  truly  believed  that  the  Chris- 
tian Church  ought  to  be  banded  together  in  one 
great  communion,  with  the  Pope  of  Rome  as  its 


122  QUEEN  ELIZABETH.  [1555 

riugiMi  of  Maiy*!  C«tholie  ie«L  Her  moderation  at  ftnt 

spiritual  head,  and  that  her  father  had  broken 
away  from  this  communion — which  was,  in  fact, 
strictly  true — merely  to  obtain  a  pretext  for  get- 
ting released  from  her  mother.  How  naturaJ, 
under  such  circumstances,  that  she  should  have 
desired  to  return.  She  commenced,  immediately 
on  her  accession,  a  course  of  measures  to  bring 
the  nation  back  to  the  Roman  Catholic  com- 
munion. She  managed  very  prudently  and 
cautiously  at  first — especially  while  the  affair 
of  her  marriage  was  pending — seemingly  very 
•^irous  of  doing  nothing  to  exasperate  those 
nrho  were  of  the  Protestant  faith,  or  even  to 
awaken  their  opposition.  After  she  was  mar- 
ried, however,  her  desire  to  please  her  Catholic 
husband,  and  his  widely-extended  and  influential 
circle  of  Catholic  friends  on  the  Continent,  made 
her  more  eager  to  press  forward  the  work  of 
putting  down  the  Reformation  in  England ;  and 
as  her  marriage  was  now  effected,  she  was  less 
concerned  about  the  consequences  of  any  oppo- 
sition which  she  might  excite.  Then,  besides, 
her  temper,  never  very  sweet,  was  sadly  soured 
by  her  husband's  treatment  of  her.  She  vent- 
ed her  ill  will  upon  those  who  would  not  yield 
to  her  wishes  in  respect  to  their  religious  faith. 
She  caused  more  and  more  severe  laws  to  be 


123 


Mary*!  terrible  persecution  of  the  Protestants.          Burning  at  the  itekd. 

passed,  and  enforced  them  by  more  and  more 
severe  penalties.  The  more  she  pressed  these 
violent  measures,  the  more  the  fortitude  and  res- 
guidon  of  those  who  suffered  from  them  were 
aroused.  And,  on  the  other  hand,  the  more 
they  resisted,  the  more  determined  she  became 
that  she  would  compel  them  to  submit.  She 
went  on  from  one  mode  of  coercion  to  another, 
until  she  reached  the  last  possible  point,  and 
inflicted  the  most  dreadful  physical  suffering 
which  it  is  possible  for  man  to  inflict  upon  his 
fellow-man. 

This  worst  and  most  terrible  injury  is  to  burn 
the  living  victim  in  a  fire.  That  a  woman  could 
ever  order  this  to  be  done  would  seem  to  be  in- 
credible. Queen  Mary,  however,  and  her  gov- 
ernment, were  so  determined  to  put  down,  at 
all  hazards,  all  open  disaffection  to  the  Catho- 
lic cause,  that  they  did  not  give  up  the  contest 
until  they  had  burned  nearly  three  hundred  per- 
sons by  fire,  of  whom  more  than  fifty  were  wom- 
en, and  four  were  children  I  This  horrible  per- 
secution was,  however,  of  no  avail.  Dissen- 
tients increased  faster  than  they  could  be  burn- 
ed ;  and  such  dreadful  punishments  became  at 
last  so  intolerably  udious  to  the  nation  that  they 
were  obliged  to  desist,  and  then  the  various 


124  QCEEN  ELIZABETH.  [1537 

The  tttto  of  Moody  (Iren  to  tiu-j.  Mary  and  Elizabeth  reooMOMi 

ministers  of  state  concerned  in  them  attempt- 
ed to  throw  off  the  blame  upon  each  other.  The 
English  nation  have  never  forgiven  Mary  foi 
these  atrocities.  They  gave  her  the  name  of 
Bloody  Mary  at  the  time,  and  she  has  retained 
it  to  the  present  day.  In  one  of  the  ancient  hi»- 
tories  of  the  realm,  at  the  head  of  the  chapter 
devoted  to  Mary,  there  is  placed,  as  an  appro- 
priate emblem  of  the  character  of  her  reign,  the 
picture  of  a  man  writhing  helplessly  at  a  stake, 
with  the  flames  curling  around  him,  and  a  fe- 
rocious-looking soldier  standing  by,  stirring  up 
the  fire. 

The  various  disappointments,  vexations,  and 
trials  which  Mary  endured  toward  the  close  of 
her  life,  had  one  good  effect ;  they  softened  the 
animosity  which  she  had  felt  toward  Elizabeth, 
and  in  the  end  something  like  a  friendship  seem- 
ad  to  spring  up  between  the  sisters.  Abandon- 
ed  by  her  husband,  and  looked  upon  with  dis- 
like or  hatred  by  her  subjects,  and  disappointed 
in  all  her  plans,  she  seemed  to  turn  at  last  to 
Elizabeth  for  companionship  and  comfort.  The 
sisters  visited  each  other.  First  Elizabeth  went 
to  London  to  visit  the  queen,  and  was  received 
with  great  ceremony  and  parade.  Then  the 
queen  went  to  Hatfield  to  visit  the  princess,  at- 


1557.]  ACCESSION  TO  THE   THRSNE.     125 

Bceoea  of  fertiTfty.  The  wv  with  Fnao» 

tended  by  a  large  company  of  ladies  and  gentle- 
men of  the  court,  and  several  day*  were  spent 
there  in  festivities  and  rejoicings.  There  were 
plays  in  the  palace,  and  a  bear-bailing  in  the 
*>urt-yard,  and  hunting  in  the  park,  and  many 
uthcr  schemes  of  pleasure.  This  renewal  of 
friendly  intercourse  between  the  queen  and  the 
princess  brought  the  latter  gradually  out  of  her 
retirement  Now  that  the  queen  began  to  evince 
a  friendly  spirit  toward  her,  it  was  safe  for  oth- 
ers to  show  her  kindness  and  to  pay  her  atten 
tion.  The  disposition  tc  do  this  increased  rap- 
idly as  Mary's  health  gradually  declined,  and  it 
began  to  be  understood  that  she  would  not  live 
long,  and  that,  consequently,  Elizabeth  would 
soon  be  called  to  the  throne. 

The  war  which  Mary  had  been  drawn  into 
with  France,  by  Philip's  threat  that  he  would 
never  see  her  again,  proved  very  disastrous. 
The  town  of  Calais,  which  is  opposite  to  Dover, 
across  the  straits,  and,  of  course,  on  the  French 
wde  of  the  channel,  had  been  in  the  possession 
of  the  English  for  two  hundred  years.  It  was 
very  gratifying  to  English  pride  to  hold  posses- 
sion of  such  a  stronghold  on  the  French  shore; 
but  now  every  thing  seemed  to  go  against  Mary, 
was  defended  by  a  citadel  nearly  as  large 


126  <4uEEN   ELIZABETH.  [1558 

L««  ef  CalaU.  Murmur*  at  the  EtgBak 

as  the  town  itself,  and  was  deemed  impregna- 
ble. In  addition  to  this,  an  enormous  English 
force  was  concentrated  there.  The  French  gen« 
eral,  however,  contrived,  partly  by  stratagem, 
and  partly  by  overpowering  numbers  of  troops, 
and  ships,  and  batteries  of  cannon,  to  get  pos- 
session of  the  whole.  The  English  nation  were 
indignant  at  this  result.  Their  queen  and  her 
government,  so  energetic  in  imprisoning  and 
burning  her  own  subjects  at  home,  were  pow- 
erless, it  seemed,  in  coping  with  their  enemies 
abroad.  Murmurs  of  dissatisfaction  were  heard 
every  where,  and  Mary  sank  down  upon  her 
sick  bed  overwhelmed  with  disappointment,  vex- 
ation, and  chagrin.  She  said  that  she  should 
die,  and  that  if,  after  her  death,  they  examined 
her  body,  they  would  find  Calais  like  a  loatf 
upon  her  heart 

In  the  mean  time,  it  must  have  been  Eliza- 
beth's secret  wish  that  she  would  die,  sinoe  her 
death  would  release  the  princess  from  all  the 
embarrassments  and  restraints  of  her  position, 
and  raise  her  at  once  to  the  highest  pinnacle 
of  honor  and  power.  She  remained,  now  ever, 
quietly  at  Hatfield,  acting  in  all  things  in  a 
very  discreet  and  cautious  manner.  At  one 
time  she  received  proposals  from  the  King  o 


1557.]  ACCESSION  TO  THE  THRONE.      127 

Ung  of  Swedan'i  propoasl  to  Elisabeth.  Marjr't  energy 

Sweden  that  she  would  accept  of  his  son  as  her 
husband.  She  asked  the  embassador  if  he  had 
communicated  the  affair  to  Mary.  On  his  re- 
plying that  he  had  not,  EJbzabeth  said  that  she 
could  not  entertain  at  all  any  such  question, 
unless  her  sister  were  first  consulted  and  should 
give  her  approbation.  She  acted  on  the  same 
principles  in  every  thing,  being  very  cautious  to 
give  Mary  a'nd  her  government  no  cause  of 
complaint  against  her,  and  willing  to  wait  pa- 
tiently until  her  own  time  should  come. 

Though  Mary's  disappointments  and  losses 
filled  her  mind  with  anguish  and  suffering,  they 
did  not  soften  her  heart.  She  seemed  to  grow 
more  cruel  and  vindictive  the  more  her  plans 
and  projects  failed.  Adversity  vexed  and  irri- 
tated, instead  of  calming  and  subduing  her 
She  revived  her  persecutions  of  the  Protest- 
ants. She  fitted  out  a  fleet  of  a  hundred  and 
twenty  ships  to  make  a  descent  upon  the  French 
coast,  and  attempt  to  retrieve  her  fallen  fortunes 
there.  She  called  Parliament  together  and  ask- 
ed for  more  supplies.  All  this  time  she  was 
confined  to  her  sick  chamber,  but  not  considered 
in  danger.  The  Parliament  were  debating  the 
question  of  supplies.  Her  privy  council  were 
holding  daily  meetings  to  carry  out  the  plant 


128  QUEEN  ELIZABETH.          [1558 

Mary'i  prlrj  council  alarmed  Their  perplexity 

and  schemes  which  she  still  continued  to  form, 
and  all  was  excitement  and  bustle  in  and  around 
the  court,  when  one  day  the  council  was  thun- 
derstruck by  an  announcement  that  she  wa§ 
dying. 

They  knew  very  well  that  her  death  would 
be  a  terrible  blow  to  them.  They  were  all 
Catholics,  and  had  been  Mary's  instruments  in 
the  terrible  persecutions  with  which  she  had 
oppressed  the  Protestant  faith.  With  Mary's 
death,  of  course  they  would  fall.  A  Protestant 
princess  was  ready,  at  HatfielJ,  to  ascend  the 
throne.  Every  thing  would  be  changed,  and 
there  was  even  danger  that  they  might,  in  their 
turn,  be  sent  to  the  stake,  in  retaliation  for  the 
cruelties  which  they  had  caused  others  to  suffer. 
They  made  arrangements  to  have  Mary's  death, 
whenever  it  should  take  place,  concealed  for  a 
few  hours,  till  they  could  consider  what  they 
should  do. 

There  was  nothing  that  they  could  do.  There 
Was  now  no  other  considerable  claimant  to  the 
throne  but  Elizabeth,  except  Mary  Queen  of 
Soot*,  who  was  far  away  in  France.  She  was 
a  Catholic,  it  was  true ;  but  to  bring  her  into 
the  country  and  place  her  upon  the  throne 
•eemed  to  be  a  hopeless  undertaking.  Queen 


1558.]  ACCESSION  TO  THE  THRONE. 

CaeerUintj  about  Klixabeth's  future  course.  Her  canflon*  policy 

Mary's  counselors  soon  found  that  they  must 
give  up  their  cause  in  despair.  Any  attempt 
to  resist  Elizabeth's  claims  would  be  high  trea- 
son, and,  of  course,  if  unsuccessful,  would  bring 
the  heads  of  all  concerned  in  it  to  the  block. 

Besides,  it  was  not  certain  that  Elizabeth 
wauld  act  decidedly  as  a  Protestant.  She  had 
been  very  prudent  and  cautious  during  Mary's 
reign,  and  had  been  very  careful  never  to  man- 
ifest any  hostility  to  the  Catholics.  She  never 
had  acted  as  Mary  had  done  on  the  occasion 
of  her  brother's  funeral,  when  she  refused  even 
to  countenance  with  her  presence  the  national 
service  because  it  was  under  Protestant  forms. 
Elizabeth  had  always  accompanied  Mary  to 
mass  whenever  occasion  required ;  she  had  al- 
ways spoken  respectfully  of  the  Catholic  faith  ; 
and  once  she  asked  Mary  to  lend  her  some  Cath- 
olic books,  in  order  that  she  might  inform  her- 
self more  fully  on  the  subject  of  the  principles 
of  the  Roman  faith.  It  is  true,  she  acted  thus 
not  because  there  was  any  real  leaning  in  hei 
mind  toward  the  Catholic  religion ;  it  was  all 
merely  a  wise  and  sagao  ous  policy.  Surround- 
ed by  difficulties  and  dangers  as  she  was  dur- 
ing Mary's  reign,  her  only  hope  of  safety  was 
in  passing  as  quietly  as  possible  along,  and  man* 
26—9 


130  QUEEN  ELIZABETH.          [1558. 

Death  of  Mary.  Announcement  to  Parliament 

aging  warily,  so  as  to  keep  the  hostility  which 
was  burning  secretly  against  her, from  break 
•ng  out  into  an  open  flame.  This  was  her  ob- 
«ct  in  retiring  so  much  from  the  court  and  from 
*U  participation  in  public  affairs,  in  avoiding  all 
religions  and  political  contests,  and  spending  her 
time  in  the  study  of  Greek,  and  Latin,  and 
philosophy.  The  consequence  was,  that  when 
Mary  died,  nobody  knew  certainly  what  course 
Elizabeth  would  pursue.  Nobody  had  any 
strong  motive  for  opposing  her  succession.  The 
council,  therefore,  after  a  short  consultation,  con- 
cluded to  do  nothing  but  simply  to  send  a  mes- 
sage to  the  House  of  Lords,  announcing  to  them 
the  unexpected  death  of  the  queen. 

The  House  of  Lords,  on  receiving  this  intel- 
ligence, sent  for  the  Commons  to  come  into  their 
hall,  as  is  usual  when  any  important  commu- 
nication is  to  be  made  to  them  either  by  the 
Lords  themselves  or  by  the  sovereign.  The 
chancellor,  who  is  the  highest  civil  officer  of  the 
kingdnm  in  respect  to  rank,  and  who  p  esidet 
!n  the  House  of  Lords,  clothed  in  a  magnificent 
intique  costume,  then  rose  and  announced  to 
the  Commons,  standing  before  him,  the  death 
Df  the  sovereign.  There  was  a  moment's  sol- 
emn pause,  such  as  propriety  on  the  occasion  of 


1558.J  ACCESSION  TO  THE   THRONE.    131 

Elizabeth  proclaimed.  Joy  of  the  people. 

an  announcement  like  this  required,  all  thought* 
being,  too,  for  a  moment  turned  to  the  chambei 
where  the  body  of  the  departed  queen  was  ly- 
ing. But  the  sovereignty  was  no  longer  there 
The  mysterious  principle  had  fled  with  the  part- 
Jng  breath,  and  Elizabeth,  though  wholly  un- 
conscious of  it,  had  been  for  several  hours  the 
queen.  The  thoughts,  therefore,  of  the  august 
and  solemn  assembly  lingered  but  for  a  moment 
in  the  royal  palace,  which  had  now  lost  all  its 
glory ;  they  soon  turned  spontaneously,  and  with 
eager  haste,  to  the  new  sovereign  at  Hatfield, 
and  the  lofty  arches  of  the  Parliament  hall  rung 
with  loud  acclamations,  "  God  save  Queen  Eliz- 
abeth, and  grant  her  a  long  and  happy  reign." 
The  members  of  the  Parliament  went  forth 
immediately  to  proclaim  the  new  queen.  There 
are  two  principal  places  where  it  was  then  cus- 
tomary to  proclaim  the  English  sovereigns.  One 
if  these  was  before  the  royal  palace  at  West- 
minster, and  the  other  in  the  city  of  London, 
it  a  very  public  place  called  the  Great  Cross 
it  Cheapside.  The  people  assembled  in  great 
crowds  at  these  points  to  witness  the  ceremony, 
and  received  the  announcement  which  the  her- 
aids  made,  with  the  most  ardent  expressions  of 
»y.  The  bells  w<»re  every  wher^  rung ;  table* 


132  QUEEN   ELISABETH.          [1558 

The  Te  Deum.  EHzabaCb'*  •motiwM 

were  spread  in  the  streets,  and  booths  erected , 
bonfires  and  illuminations  were  prepared  for  the 
evening,  and  every  thing  indicated  a  deep  wnJ 
universal  joy. 

In  fact,  this  joy  was  so  strongly  expressed  at 
to  be  even  in  some  degree  disrespectful  to  th« 
memory  of  the  departed  queen.  There  is  a  fa- 
mous ancient  Latin  hymn  which  has  long  been 
sung  in  England  and  on  the  Continent  of  Eu- 
rope on  occasions  of  great  public  rejoicing.  It 
is  called  the  Te  Deum,  or  sometimes  the  Te 
Deum  Laudamus.  These  last  are  the  three 
Latin  words  with  which  the  hymn  commences, 
and  mean,  Thee,  God,  we  praise.  They  sung 
the  Te  Deum  in  the  churches  of  London  on 
the  Sunday  after  Mary  died. 

In  the  mean  time,  messengers  from  the  coun- 
cil proceeded  with  all  speed  to  Hatfield,  to  an- 
nounce to  Elizabeth  the  death  of  her  sister,  and 
her  own  accession  to  the  sovereign  power.  The 
tidings,  of  course,  filled  Elizabeth's  mind  with 
the  deepest  emotions.  The  oppressive  sense  of 
constraint  and  danger  which  she  had  endured 
as  her  daily  burden  for  so  many  years,  was  lifted 
suddenly  from  her  soul.  She  could  not  but  re- 
joice, though  she  was  too  much  upon  her  guard 
to  express  her  joy.  She  was  overwhelmed  with 


1558.]  ACCESSION  TO  THE  THRONE       133 

Ceefl  made  secretary  of  state.  HU  faithfulne** 

*  profound  agitation,  and,  kneeling  down,  she 
exclaimed  in  Latin,  "  It  is  the  Lord's  doing; 
tnd  it  is  wonderful  :n  our  eyes." 

Several  of  the  members  of  Mary's  privy  coun- 
cil repaired  Lmraediately  to  HatfiekL  The 
queen  summoned  them  to  attend  her,  and  in 
their  presence  appointed  her  chief  secretary  of 
state.  His  name  was  Sir  William  Cecil.  He 
was  a  man  of  great  learning  and  ability,  and  he 
remained  in  office  under  Elizabeth  for  forty 
years.  He  became  her  chief  adviser  and  instru- 
ment, an  able,  faithful,  and  indefatigable  serv- 
ant and  friend  during  almost  the  whole  of  her 
reign.  His  name  is  accordingly  indissolubly 
connected  with  that  of  Elizabeth  in  all  the  po- 
litical events  which  occurred  while  she  contin- 
ued upon  the  throne,  and  it  will,  in  consequence, 
very  frequently  occur  in  the  sequel  of  this  his- 
tory. He  was  now  about  forty  years  of  age. 
Elizabeth  was  twenty-five. 

Elizabeth  had  known  Cecil  'ong  before.  Ha 
had  been  a  faithful  and  true  friend  to  her  in  hei 
adversity.  He  had  been,  in  many  oases,  a  con- 
fidential adviser,  and  had  maintained  a  secret 
correspondence  with  her  in  certain  trying  peri- 
ods of  her  life.  She  had  resolved,  doubtless,  tc 
make  him  her  chief  secretary  of  state  so  sooi 


134  C^UEEN  ELIZABETH.  [1558 

Elz»b«th'i  charge  to  CeeO.  Her  journey  to  London 

as  she  should  succeed  to  the  throne.  And  now 
that  the  time  had  arrived,  she  instated  him  sol- 
emnly in  his  office.  In  so  doing,  she  pronounc- 
ed, in  the  hearing  of  the  other  members  of  the 
council,  the  following  charge  : 

"  I  give  you  this  charge  that  you  shall  be  of 
my  privy  council,  and  content  yourself  to  take 
pain*  for  me  and  my  realm.  This  judgment  1 
have  of  you,  that  you  will  not  be  corrupted  with 
any  gift ;  and  that  you  will  be  faithful  to  the 
state ;  and  that,  without  respect  of  my  private 
will,  you  will  give  me  that  counsel  that  you 
think  best;  and  that,  if  you  shall  know  any 
thing  necessary  to  be  declared  to  me  of  secrecy 
you  shall  show  it  to  myself  only ;  and  assure 
yourself  I  will  not  fail  to  keep  taciturnity  there- 
in. And  therefore  herewith  I  charge  you." 

It  was  about  a  week  after  the  death  of  Mary 
before  the  arrangements  were  completed  for 
Elizabeth's  journey  to  London,  to  take  posse* 
sion  of  the  castles  and  palaces  which  pertair 
there  to  the  English  sovereigns.  She  was  fol 
lowed  on  this  journey  by  a  train  of  about  a  thou- 
sand attendants,  all  nobles  or  personages  of  high 
rank,  both  gentlemen  and  ladies.  She  went 
first  to  a  palace  called  the  Charter  House,  neai 


1558.]  ACCESSION  TO  THE  THRONE.     137 

JCiimbeth's  triunaph«nt  entrant*  into  th«  T*wer. 

London,  where  she  stopped  until  preparation* 
could  be  made  for  her  formal  and  public  entrance 
Into  the  Tower ;  not,  as  before,  through  the  Trai- 
tors' Gate,  a  prisoner,  but  openly,  through  tne 
grind  entrance,  in  the  midst  of  acclamations 
as  the  proud  and  applauded  sovereign  of  the 
mighty  realm  whose  capital  the  ancient  fortress 
was  stationed  to  defend.  The  streets  through 
which  the  gorgeous  procession  was  to  pass  were 
spread  with  fine,  smooth  gravel ;  bands  of  mu- 
sicians were  stationed  at  intervals,  and  decora- 
ted arches,  and  banners,  and  flags,  with  count- 
less devices  of  loyalty  and  welcome,  and  waving 
handkerchiefs,  greeted  her  all  the  way.  Heralds 
and  other  great  officers,  magnificently  dressed, 
and  mounted  on  horses  richly  caparisoned,  rode 
before  her,  announcing  her  approach,  with  trum- 
pets and  proclamations;  while  she  followed  in 
the  train,  mounted  upon  a  beautiful  horse,  the 
object  of  universal  homage.  Thus  Elizabeth 
entered  the  Tower ;  and  inasmuch  as  forgetting 
her  friends  is  a  fault  with  which  she  can  not  just- 
ly be  charged,  we  may  hope,  at  least,  that  one  of 
the  first  acts  which  she  performed,  after  getting 
established  in  the  royal  apartments,  was  to  sond 
for  and  reward  the  kind-hearted  child  who  had 
been  tenrimanded  for  bringing  her  the  flower*. 


138  Q.UEEN   ELIZABETH.          [1558 

The  coronation.  Pageanta  in  the  itrceti 

The  coronation,  when  the  time  arrived  for  it, 
was  very  splendid.  The  queen  went  in  state 
in  a  sumptuous  chariot,  preceded  by  trumpetf  n 
and  heralds  in  armor,  and  accompanied  by  a 
long  train  of  noblemen,  barons,  and  gentlemen, 
and  also  of  ladies,  all  most  richly  dressed  in 
crimson  velvet,  the  trappings  of  the  horses  be- 
ing of  the  same  material.  The  people  of  Lon- 
don thronged  all  the  streets  through  which  she 
was  to  pass,  and  made  the  air  resound  with 
shouts  and  acclamations.  There  were  triumph- 
al arches  erected  here  and  there  on  the  way, 
with  a  great  variety  of  odd  and  quaint  devices, 
and  a  child  stationed  upon  each,  who  explain- 
ed the  devices  to  Elizabeth  as  she  passed,  ir 
English  verse,  written  for  the  occasion.  On* 
of  these  pageants  was  entitled  "  The  Seat  of 
worthy  Governance."  There  was  a  throne, 
supported  by  figures  which  represented  the  car- 
dinal virtues,  such  as  Piety,  Wisdom,  Temper- 
ance, Industry,  Truth,  and  beneath  their  "eet 
were  the  opposite  vices,  Superstition,  Ignorance, 
Intemperance,  Idleness,  and  Falsehood:  these 
the  virtues  were  trampling  upon.  On  the  throne 
was  a  representation  of  Elizabeth.  At  one  place 
were  eight  personages  dressed  to  represent  the 
night  beatitudes  pronounced  by  our  Savior  in 


1558.]  ACCESSION  TO  THE  THRONE.     139 

DerioM.  Presentation  «f  the  Bible.  The  hetry  pmna 

his  sermon  on  the  Mount— the  meek,  the  merci- 
ful, &o.  Each  of  these  qualities  was  ingenious' 
ly  ascribed  to  Elizabeth.  This  could  be  done 
with  much  more  propriety  then  than  in  subse- 
quent years.  In  another  place,  an  ancient  fig- 
ure, representing  Time,  came  out  of  a  cave  which 
had  been  artificially  constructed  with  great  in- 
genuity, leading  his  daughter,  whose  name  was 
Truth.  Truth  had  an  English  Bible  in  her 
hands,  which  she  presented  to  Elizabeth  as  she 
passed.  This  had  a  great  deal  of  meaning ;  for 
the  Catholic  government  of  Mary  had  disoour 
aged  the  circulation  of  the  Scriptures  in  the  ver 
nacular  tongue.  When  the  procession  arrived 
in  the  middle  of  the  city,  some  officers  of  the 
city  government  approached  the  queen's  char- 
iot, and  delivered  to  her  a  present  of  a  very  large 
and  heavy  purse  tilled  with  gold.  The  que^n 
had  to  employ  both  hands  in  lifting  it  in.  It 
contained  an  amount  equal  in  value  to  two  01 
three  thousand  dollars. 

The  queen  was  very  affable  and  gracious  to 
all  the  people  on  the  way.  Poor  women  would 
oome  up  to  her  carriage  and  offer  her  flowers, 
which  she  would  very  condescendingly  accept 
Several  times  she  stopped  her  carriage  when 
•he  saw  that  any  one  wished  to  speak  with  bar 


140  QUERN  ELIZABETH.          [1558 

n*  »png  W  I'niainry.  The  wedding  rinf 

or  had  something  to  offer  ;  and  so  great  was  the 
exaltation  of  a  queen  in  those  days,  in  the  esti- 
mation of  mankind,  that  these  acts  were  con- 
tidered  by  all  the  humble  citizens  of  London  as 
acts  of  very  extraordinary  affability,  and  they 
awakened  universal  enthusiasm.  There  was 
one  branch  of  rosemary  given  to  the  queen  by 
a  poor  woman  in  Fleet  Street ;  the  queen  put 
it  up  conspicuously  in  the  carriage,  where  it  re- 
mained all  the  way,  watched  by  ten  thousand 
eyes,  till  it  got  to  Westminster. 

The  coronation  took  place  at  Westminster  on 
the  following  day.  The  crown  was  placed  upon 
the  young  maiden's  head  in  the  midst  of  a  great 
throng  of  ladies  and  gentlemen,  who  were  all 
superbly  dressed,  and  who  made  the  vast  edifice 
in  which  the  service  was  performed  ring  with 
their  acclamations  and  their  shouts  of  "  Long 
live  the  Queen !"  During  the  ceremonies,  Eliz- 
abeth placed  a  wedding  ring  upon  her  finger 
with  great  formality,  to  denote  that  she  consid- 
ered the  occasion  as  the  celebration  of  her  es- 
pousal to  the  realm  of  England ;  she  was  that 
day  a  bride,  and  should  never  have,  she  said,  any 
other  husband.  She  kept  this,  the  only  wed- 
ding ring  she  ever  wore,  upon  her  finger,  with- 
oat  once  removing  it,  for  more  than  forty  year* 


1559.1     THE  WAR  IN   SCOTLAND.         l4J 

BiMbetfa  uul  Umrj  Qaaoi  of  Scot*.  Tb*r 


CHAPTER  VI L 
THE  WAR   IN   SCOTLAND. 

QUEEN  Elizabeth  and  Mary  Queen  of 
Scots  are  strongly  associated  together  in 
the  minds  of  all  readers  of  English  history. 
They  were  cotemporary  sovereigns,  reigning  at 
the  same  time  over  sister  kingdoms.  They 
were  cousins,  and  yet,  precisely  on  account  of 
the  family  relationship  which  existed  between 
them,  they  became  implacable  foes.  The  rival- 
ry and  hostility,  sometimes  open  and  sometimes 
concealed,  was  always  in  action,  and,  after  a 
contest  of  more  than  twenty  years,  Elizabeth 
triumphed.  She  made  Mary  her  prisoner,  kept 
her  many  years  a  captive,  and  at  last  closed  the 
contest  by  commanding,  or  at  least  allowing, 
her  fallen  rival  to  be  beheaded. 

Thus  Elizabeth  had  it  all  her  own  way  .vhile 
the  scenes  of  her  life  and  of  Mary's  were  trans* 
piring,  but  since  that  time  mankind  have  gen- 
erally sympathized  most  strongly  with  the  con- 
quered- one,  and  condemned  the  conqueror 
There  are  several  reasons  for  this,  and  among 


142  <4uEBN  ELIZABETH.          [1559 

Character  of  Mary.  Character  of  KUiabetk. 

them  is  the  vast  influence  exerted  by  the  dif- 
ference in  the  personal  character  of  the  parties. 
Mary  was  beautiful,  feminine  in  spirit,  and  love- 
ly. Elizabeth  was  talented,  masculine,  and 
plain.  Mary  was  artless,  unaffected,  and  gen- 
tie.  Elizabeth  was  heartless,  intriguing,  and 
Insincere.  With  Mary,  though  her  ruling  prin- 
ciple was  ambition,  her  ruling  passion  was  love. 
Her  love  led  her  to  great  transgressions  and  into 
many  sorrows,  but  mankind  pardon  the  sins 
and  pity  the  sufferings  which  are  caused  by  love 
more  readily  than  those  of  any  other  origin. 
With  Elizabeth,  ambition  was  the  ruling  prin- 
ciple, and  the  ruling  passion  too.  Love,  with 
her,  was  only  a  pastime.  Her  transgressions 
were  the  cool,  deliberate,  well-considered  acts 
of  selfishness  and  desire  of  power.  During  her 
lifetime  her  success  secured  her  the  applauses 
of  the  world.  The  world  is  always  ready  to 
glorify  the  greatness  which  rises  visibly  before 
it,  and  to  forget  sufferings  which  are  meekly 
and  patiently  borne  in  seclusion  and  solitude. 
Men  praised  and  honored  Elizabeth,  therefore, 
while  she  lived,  and  neglected  Mary.  But  since 
the  halo  and  the  fascination  of  the  visible  great- 
ness and  glory  have  passed  away,  they  have 
fcnind  a  far  greater  charm  in  Mary's  beauty  and 


1559]     THE   WAR  IN   SCOTLAND.         143 

dMbeth'i  celebrity  while  tiring.  Interest  In  Mary  when  de*d 

misfortune  than  in  her  great  rival's  pride  and 
power. 

There  is  often  thus  a  great  difference  in  the 
comparative  interest  we  take  in  persons  or 
scenes,  when,  on  the  one  hand,  they  are  reali- 
ties before  our  eyes,  and  when,  on  the  other, 
they  are  only  imaginings  which  are  brought  to 
our  minds  by  pictures  or  descriptions.  The 
hardships  which  it  was  very  disagreeable  or 
painful  to  bear,  afford  often  great  amusement 
or  pleasure  in  the  recollection.  The  old  broken 
gate  which  a  gentleman  would  not  tolerate  an 
hour  upon  his  grounds,  is  a  great  beauty  in  the 
picture  which  hangs  in  his  parlor.  We  shun 
poverty  and  distress  while  they  are  actually  ex- 
isting ;  nothing  is  more  disagreeable  to  us ;  and 
we  gaze  upon  prosperity  and  wealth  with  never- 
ceasing  pleasure.  But  when  they  are  gone, 
and  we  have  only  the  tale  to  hear,  it  is  the  story 
of  sorrow  and  suffering  which  possesses  the 
charm.  Thus  it  happened  that  when  the  two 
queens  were  living  realities,  Elizabeth  was  \he 
center  of  attraction  and  the  object  of  universal 
homage ;  but  when  they  came  to  be  themes  of 
history,  all  eyes  and  hearts  began  soon  to  turn 
instinctively  to  Mary.  It  was  London,  and 
Westminster,  and  Kenilworth  that  possessed 


144  QUEEN   ELIZABETH.          [1559 

KM)  M&UV  of  tbe  quantion  at  UMUC  between  Mkry  and  KlwUxrtk. 

the  interest  while  Elizabeth  lived,  but  it  is  Holy- 
rood  and  Loch  Leven  now. 

It  results  from  these  causes  that  Mary's  story 
«  read  iar  more  frequently  than  Elizabeth's, 
and  this  operates  still  further  to  the  advantage 
of  the  former,  for  we  are  always  prone  to  take 
sides  with  the  heroine  of  the  tale  we  are  reading 
All  these  considerations,  which  have  had  so 
much  influence  on  the  judgment  men  form,  or, 
rather,  on  the  feeling  to  which  they  incline  in 
this  famous  contest,  have,  it  must  be  confessed, 
very  little  to  do  with  the  true  merits  of  the  case 
Ajid  if  we  make  a  serious  attempt  to  lay  all  suob 
considerations  aside,  and  to  look  into  the  con- 
troversy with  cool  and  rigid  impartiality,  we 
shall  find  it  very  difficult  to  arrive  at  any  satis- 
factory conclusion.  There  are  two  questions  to 
be  decided.  In  advancing  their  conflicting 
claims  to  the  English  crown,  was  it  Elizabeth 
or  Mary  that  was  in  the  right?  If  Elizabeth 
was  right,  were  the  measures  which  she  resort- 
ed to  to  secure  her  own  rights,  and  to  counteract 
Maiy's  pretensions,  politically  justifiable  ?  We 
do  not  propose  to  add  our  own  to  the  hundred  de- 
cisions which  various  writers  have  given  to  this 
question,  but  only  to  narrate  the  facts,  and  leave 
<*ach  reader  to  come  to  his  own  conclusions 


1659.]     THE   WAR  in  SCOTLAND.         146 

Ib*  two  marriage*.  One  or  the  other  neccttuily  muQ. 

The  foundation  of  the  long  and  dreadful  quar- 
rel between  these  royal  cousins  was,  as  has  been 
already  remarked,  their  consanguinity,  which 
made  them  both  competitors  for  the  same  throne ; 
*nd  as  that  throne  was,  in  some  respects,  the 
highest  and  most  powerful  in  the  world,  it  is 
not  surprising  that  two  such  ambitious  women 
should  be  eager  and  persevering  in  their  contest 
for  it.  By  turning  to  the  genealogical  table  on 
page  68,  where  a  view  is  presented  of  the  royal 
family  of  England  hi  the  tune  of  Elizabeth,  the 
reader  will  see  once  more  what  was  the  precise 
relationship  which  the  two  queens  bore  to  each 
other  and  to  the  succession.  By  this  table  it  is 
rery  evident  that  Elizabeth  was  the  true  in- 
heritor of  the  crown,  provided  it  were  admit- 
ted that  she  was  the  lawful  daughter  and  heir 
of  King  Henry  the  Eighth,  and  this  depended 
on  the  question  of  the  validity  of  her  father's 
marriage  with  his  first  wife,  Catharine  of  Ar*- 
gon  ;  for,  as  has  been  before  said,  he  was  mar- 
ried to  Anne  Boleyn  before  obtaining  any  thing 
like  a  divorce  from  Catharine;  consequently, 
the  marriage  with  Elizabeth's  mother  could  not 
be  legally  valid,  unless  that  with  Catharine  had 
been  void  from  the  beginning.  The  friends  of 
Mary  Queen  of  Scots  maintained  that  it  wai 

26—10 


149  QUEEN   ELIZABETH.          [1559 

Vtewi  of  Mary '•  frlendi.  Views  of  Elisabeth's  friend* 

not  thus  void,  and  that,  consequently,  the  mar- 
riage with  Anne  Boleyn  was  null ;  that  Eliza* 
beth,  therefore,  the  descendant  of  the  marriage, 
was  not,  legally  and  technically,  a  daughter  of 
Henry  the  Eighth,  and,  consequently,  not  enti- 
tled to  inherit  his  crown ;  and  that  the  crown, 
of  right,  ought  to  descend  to  the  next  heir,  that 
is,  to  Mary  Queen  of  Scots  herself. 

Queen  Elizabeth's  friends  and  partisans  main- 
tained, on  the  other  hand,  that  the  marriage  of 
King  Henry  with  Catharine  was  null  and  void 
from  the  beginning,  because  Catharine  had  been 
before  the  wife  of  his  brother.  The  circumstan- 
ces of  this  marriage  were  very  curious  and  pe- 
culiar. It  was  his  father's  work,  and  not  his 
own.  His  father  was  King  Henry  the  Seventh. 
Henry  the  Seventh  had  several  children,  and 
among  them  were  his  two  oldest  sons,  Arthur 
and  Henry.  When  Arthur  was  about  sixteen 
years  old,  his  father,  being  very  much  in  wanl 
of  money,  conceived  the  plan  of  replenishing  hb 
coffers  by  marrying  his  son  to  a  rich  wife  He 
accordingly  contracted  a  marriage  between  him 
and  Catharine  of  Aragon,  Catharine's  father 
agreeing  to  pay  him  two  hundred  thousand 
crowns  as  her  dowry.  The  juvenile  bridegroom 
enjoyed  the  honors  and  pleasures  of  married 
Jfe  for  a  few  months,  and  then  died. 


1559.]     THE  WAR  IN  SCOTLAND.          147 

Circumstances  of  Henry  the  Eighth's  first  marriage. 

This  event  was  a  great  domestic  calamity  to 
the  king,  not  because  he  mourned  the  loss  of 
his  son,  but  that  he  could  not  bear  the  idea  of 
the  loss  of  the  dowry.  By  the  law  and  usage 
in  such  cases,  he  was  bound  not  only  to  forego 
the  payment  of  the  other  half  of  the  dowry,  but 
he  had  himself  no  right  to  retain  the  half  that 
he  had  already  received.  While  his  son  lived, 
being  a  minor,  the  father  might,  not  improper- 
ly, hold  the  money  in  his  son's  name ;  but  when 
he  died  this  right  ceased,  and  as  Arthur  left  no 
child,  Henry  perceived  that  he  should  be  obliged 
to  pay  back  the  money.  To  avoid  this  un- 
pleasant necessity,  the  king  conceived  the  plan 
of  marrying  the  youthful  widow  again  to  his 
second  boy,  Henry,  who  was  about  a  year 
younger  than  Arthur,  and  he  made  proposals 
to  this  effect  to  the  King  of  Aragon. 

The  King  of  Aragon  made  no  objection  to 
this  proposal,  except  that  it  was  a  thing  un- 
heard of  among  Christian  nations,  or  heard  of 
only  to  be  condemned,  for  a  man  or  even  a  boy 
to  marry  his  brother's  widow.  All  laws,  human 
and  divine,  were  clear  and  absolute  against  this. 
Still,  if  the  dispensation  of  the  pope  could  be 
obtained,  he  would  make  no  objection.  Catha- 
rine might  espouse  the  second  boy,  and  he  would 


148  QUEEN  ELIZABETH.  [1559. 

The  papal  dispensation.  Doubts  about  it. 

allow  the  one  hundred  thousand  crowns  already 
paid  to  stand,  and  would  also  pay  the  other 
hundred  thousand.  The  dispensation  was  ac- 
cordingly obtained,  and  every  thing  made  ready 
for  the  marriage. 

Very  soon  after  this,  however,  and  before  the 
new  marriage  was  carried  into  effect,  King 
Henry  the  Seventh  died,  and  this  second  boy, 
now  the  oldest  son,  though  only  about  seven- 
teen years  of  age,  ascended  the  throne  as  King 
Henry  the  Eighth.  There  was  great  discussion 
and  debate,  soon  after  his  accession,  whether 
the  marriage  which  his  father  had  arranged 
should  proceed.  Some  argued  that  no  papal 
dispensation  could  authorize  or  justify  such  a 
marriage.  Others  maintained  that  a  papal  dis- 
pensation could  legalize  any  thing ;  for  it  is  a 
doctrine  of  the  Catholic  Church  that  the  pope 
has  a  certain  discretionary  power  over  all  laws, 
human  and  divine,  under  the  authority  given 
to  his  great  predecessor,  the  Apostle  Peter,  by 
the  words  of  Christ :  "  Whatsoever  thou  shall 
bind  on  earth  shall  be  bound  in  heaven,  and 
whatsoever  thou  shalt  loose  on  earth  shall  be 
loosed  in  heaven."*  Henry  seems  not  to  have 
puzzled  his  head  at  all  with  the  iegat  question ; 

*  Matthew,  xvi.,  l&. 


1559.]     THE  WAR  IN  SCOTLAND.          149 

England  turns  Protestant  The  marriage  annulled. 

he  wanted  to  have  the  young  widow  for  his 
wife,  and  he  settled  the  affair  on  that  ground 
alone.  They  were  married. 

Catharine  was  a  faithful  and  dutiful  spouse ; 
but  when,  at  last,  Henry  fell  in  love  with  Anne 
Boleyn,  he  made  these  old  difficulties  a  pretext 
for  discarding  her.  He  endeavored,  as  has  been 
already  related,  to  induce  the  papal  authorities 
to  annul  their  dispensation ;  because  they  would 
not  do  it,  he  espoused  the  Protestant  cause,  and 
England,  as  a  nation,  seceded  from  the  Catho- 
lic communion.  The  ecclesiastical  and  parlia- 
mentary authorities  of  his  own  realm  then,  be- 
ing made  Protestant,  annulled  the  marriage, 
and  thus  Anne  Boleyn,  to  whom  he  had  pre- 
viously been  married  by  a  private  ceremony, 
became  legally  and  technically  his  wife.  If 
this  annulling  of  his  first  marriage  were  valid, 
then  Elizabeth  was  his  heir — otherwise  not; 
for  if  the  pope's  dispensation  was  to  stand,  then 
Catharine  was  a  wife.  Anne  Boleyn  would  in 
that  case,  of  course,  have  been  only  a  compan- 
ion, and  Elizabeth,  claiming  through  her,  a 
usurper. 

The  question,  thus,  was  very  complicated.  It 
branched  into  extensive  ramifications,  which 
opened  a  wide  field  of  debate,  'and  led  to  end- 


150  QUEEN  ELIZABETH.  [1559. 

Mary  in  France.  She  becomes  Queen  of  France. 

less  controversies.  It  is  not  probable,  however, 
that  Mary  Queen  of  Scots,  or  her  friends,  gave 
themselves  much  trouble  about  the  legal  points 
at  issue.  She  and  they  were  all  Catholics,  and 
it  was  sufficient  for  them  to  know  that  the 
Holy  Father  at  Rome  had  sanctioned  the  mar- 
riage of  Catharine,  and  that  that  marriage,  if 
allowed  to  stand,  made  her  the  Queen  of  En- 
gland. She  was  at  this  time  in  France.  She 
had  been  sent  there  at  a  very  early  period  of 
her  life,  to  escape  the  troubles  of  her  native  land, 
and  also  to  be  educated.  She  was  a  gentle  and 
beautiful  child,  and  as  she  grew  up  amid  the 
gay  scenes  and  festivities  of  Paris,  she  became 
a  very  great  favorite,  being  universally  beloved. 
She  married  at  length,  though  while  she  was 
still  quite  young,  the  son  of  the  French  king. 
Her  young  husband  became  king  himself  soon 
afterward,  on  account  of  his  father's  being  kill- 
ed, in  a  very  remarkable  manner,  at  a  tourna- 
ment ;  and  thus  Mary,  Queen  of  Scots  before, 
became  also  Queen  of  France  now.  All  these 
events,  passed  over  thus  very  summarily  here, 
are  narrated  in  full  detail  in  the  History  of 
Mary  Queen  of  Scots  pertaining  to  this  series. 
While  Mary  was  thus  residing  in  France  as 
the  wife  of  the  king,  she  was  surrounded  by  a 


1559.]      THE  WAR  IN  SCOTLAND.         151 

Mmry '«  piwtenrioni  to  the  English  erowm.  Ett«»beth'»  fear* 

very  large  and  influentia .  circle,  who  were  Cath- 
olics like  herself,  and  who  were  also  enemies  of 
Elizabeth  and  of  England,  and  glad  to  find  any 
pretext  for  disturbing  her  reign.  These  per- 
sons brought  forward  Mary's  claim.  They  per- 
suaded Mary  that  she  was  fairly  entitled  to  the 
English  crown.  They  awakened  her  youthful 
ambition,  and  excited  strong  desires  in  her 
heart  to  attain  to  the  high  elevation  of  Queen 
of  England.  Mary  at  length  assumed  the  title 
in  some  of  her  official  acts,  and  combined  the 
arms  of  England  with  those  of  Scotland  in  the 
escutcheons  with  which  her  furniture  and  her 
plate  were  emblazoned. 

When  Queen  Elizabeth  learned  that  Mary 
was  advancing  such  pretensions  to  her  crown, 
she  was  made  very  uneasy  by  it  There  was, 
perhaps,  no  immediate  danger,  but  then  there 
was  a  very  large  Catholic  party  in  England, 
and  they  would  naturally  espouse  Mary's  cause 
and  they  might,  at  some  future  time,  gather 
strength  so  as  to  make  Elizabeth  a  great  dea 
af  trouble.  She  accordingly  sent  an  embassa- 
dor  over  to  France  to  remonstrate  against  Ma- 
ry's  advancing  these  pretensions.  But  she  could 
get  no  satisfactory  reply.  Mary  would  not  dis- 
avow her  claim  to  Elizabeth's  crown,  nor  would 


152  QUEEN  ELIZABETH.          [1559. 

MaMnrM  of  EUnbeth.  Progress  of  Protestanttan  In  Bcotlmxi 


she  directly  assert  it.  Elizabeth,  then,  know* 
ing  that  all  her  danger  lay  in  the  power  and  in- 
fluence of  her  own  Catholic  subjects,  went  to 
work,  Tory  cautiously  and  warily,  but  in  a  very 
extended  and  efficient  way,  to  establish  the  Ref- 
ormation, and  to  undermine  and  destroy  all  tra- 
ces of  Catholic  power.  She  proceeded  in  thia 
work  with  great  circumspection,  so  as  not  to 
excite  opposition  or  alarm. 

In  the  mean  time,  the  Protestant  cause  was 
making  progress  in  Scotland  too,  by  its  own  in- 
herent energies,  and  against  the  influence  of  the 
government.  Finally,  the  Scotch  Protestants 
organized  themselves,  and  commenced  an  open 
rebellion  against  the  regent  whom  Mary  had 
left  in  power  while  she  was  away.  They  sent 
to  Elizabeth  to  come  and  aid  them.  Mary  and 
her  friends  in  France  sent  French  troops  to  as- 
sist the  government.  Elizabeth  hesitated  very 
much  whether  to  comply  with  the  request  of 
the  rebels  It  is  very  dangerous  for  a  sovereign 
to  countenance  rebellion  in  any  way.  Then 
the  shrunk,  too,  from  the  expense  which  she 
foresaw  that  such  an  attempt  would  involve 
To  fit  out  a  fleet,  and  to  levy  and  equip  an  army, 
and  to  continue  the  forces  thus  raised  in  action 
during  a  long  and  uncertain  campaign,  would 


1560.]      THE   WAR  IN   SCOTLAND.        153 

Mffloaldet  IM  Scotland.  EHMbeOi'i  lBtorfar«x^ 

cost  a  large  sum  of  money,  and  Elizabeth  was 
constitutionally  economical  and  frugal.  But 
then,  on  the  other  hand,  as  she  deliberated 
open  the  affair  long  and  anxiously,  both  alone 
and  with  her  council,  she  thought  that,  if  she 
should  so  far  succeed  as  to  get  the  government 
of  Scotland  into  her  power,  she  could  compel 
Mary  to  renounce  forever  all  claims  to  the  En< 
glish  crown,  by  threatening  her,  if  she  wouM 
not  do  it,  with  the  loss  of  her  own. 

Finally,  she  decided  on  making  the  attempt 
Cecil,  her  wise  and  prudent  counselor,  strongly 
advised  it  He  said  it  was  far  better  to  carry 
on  the  contest  with  Mary  and  the  French  in 
one  of  their  countries  than  in  her  own.  She  be- 
gan to  make  preparations.  Mary  and  the  French 
government,  on  learning  this,  were  alarmed  in 
their  turn.  They  sent  word  to  Elizabeth  that 
for  her  to  render  countenance  and  aid  to  rebels 
in  arms  against  their  sovereign,  in  a  sister  king- 
dom,  was  wholly  unjustifiable,  and  they  remon- 
•trated  most  earnestly  against  it.  Besides  mak- 
ing this  remonstrance,  they  offered,  as  an  induce* 
ment  of  another  kind,  that  if  she  would  refrain 
from  taking  any  part  in  the  contest  in  Scotland, 
they  would  restore  to  her  the  great  town  and 
citadel  of  Calais,  which  her  sister  had  been  sc 


154  QUEEN    ELIZABETH.          [1560 

frottlaM  negotiation*.  The  wv  COM  <m 

much  grieved  to  lose.  To  this  Elizabeth  re- 
plied that,  so  long  as  Mary  adhered  to  her  pre- 
tensions to  the  English  crown,  she  should  be 
compelled  to  take  energetic  measures  to  protect 
herself  from  them;  and  as  to  Calais,  the  pos- 
session of  a  fishing  town  on  a  foreign  coast  wa* 
of  no  moment  to  her  in  comparison  with  the 
peace  and  security  of  her  own  realm.  This 
answer  did  not  tend  to  close  the  breach.  Be- 
sides the  bluntness  of  the  refusal  of  their  offer, 
the  French  were  irritated  and  vexed  to  hear  their 
famous  sea-port  spoken  of  so  contemptuously. 

Elizabeth  accordingly  fitted  out  a  fleet  and 
an  army,  and  sent  them  northward.  A  French 
fleet,  with  re-enforcements  for  Mary's  adherent* 
in  this  contest,  set  sail  from  France  at  about  the 
same  time.  It  was  a  very  important  question 
to  be  determined  which  of  these  two  fleets  should 
get  first  upon  the  stage  of  action. 

In  the  mean  time,  the  Protestant  party  in 
Scotland,  or  the  rebels,  as  Queen  Mary  and 
her  government  called  them,  had  had  very  hard 
work  to  maintain  their  ground.  There  was  a 
large  French  force  already  there,  and  their  co- 
operation and  aid  made  the  government  too 
itrong  for  the  insurgents  to  resist.  But,  when 
Rlizabeth's  English  army  crossed  the.  frontier. 


1560.]      THE  WAR  n  SCOTLAND          157 

Th«  French  ihut  np  tn  Leitk.  Situation  of  the  tow*. 

the  face  of  affairs  was  changed.  The  French 
forces  retreated  in  their  turn.  The  English 
army  advanced.  The  Scotch  Protestants  came 
forth  from  the  recesses  of  the  Highlands  tc 
which  they  had  retreated,  and,  drawing  closer 
and  closer  around  the  French  and  the  govern- 
ment forces,  they  hemmed  them  in  more  and 
more  narrowly,  and  at  last  shut  them  up  in  the 
ancient  town  of  Leith,  to  which  they  retreated 
in  search  of  a  temporary  shelter,  until  the  French 
fleet,  with  re-enforcements,  should  arrive. 

The  town-  of  Leith  is  on  the  shore  of  the 
Firth  of  Forth,  not  far  from  Edinburgh.  It  is 
the  port  or  landing-place  of  Edinburgh,  in  ap- 
proaching it  from  the  sea.  It  is  on  the  south- 
ern shore  of  the  firth,  and  Edinburgh  stands  on 
higher  land,  about  two  miles  south  of  it  Leith 
was  strongly  fortified  in  those  days,  and  the 
French  army  felt  very  secure  there,  though  yet 
anxiously  awaiting  the  arrival  of  the  fleet  which 
was  to  release  them.  The  English  army  ad- 
vanced in  the  mean  time,  eager  to  get  posses 
sion  of  the  city  before  the  expected  succors 
«hould  arrive.  The  English  made  an  assault 
upon  the  walls.  The  French,  with  desperate 
bravery,  repelled  it.  The  French  made  a  sor- 
tie ;  that  is,  they  rushed  out  of  a  sudden  and 


158  QUEEN    ELIZABETH. 

The  RnglUh  victorious.  The  Treaty  of  Edinburgh 

attacked  the  English  lines.  The  English  con- 
oentrated  their  forces  at  the  point  attacked,  and 
drove  them  back  again.  These  struggles  con- 
tinued, both  sides  very  eager  for  victory,  and 
both  watching  all  the  time  for  the  appearance 
of  a  fleet  in  the  offing. 

At  length,  one  day,  a  cloud  of  white  sails  ap- 
peared rounding  the  point  of  land  which  forms 
'the  southern  boundary  of  the  firth,  and  the 
French  were  thrown  at  once  into  the  highest 
state  of  exultation  and  excitement.  But  this 
pleasure  was  soon  turned  into  disappointment 
and  chagrin  by  finding  that  it  was  Elizabeth's 
fleet,  and  not  theirs,  which  was  coming  into 
view.  This  ended  the  contest.  The  French 
fleet  never  arrived.  It  was  dispersed  and  de- 
stroyed by  a  storm.  The  besieged  army  sent 
out  a  flag  of  truce,  proposing  to  suspend  hostil- 
ities until  the  terms  of  a  treaty  could  be  agreed 
upon.  The  truce  was  granted.  Commission- 
ers were  appointed  on  each  side  These  com- 
missioners met  at  Edinburgh,  and  agreed  upon 
the  terms  of  a  permanent  peace.  The  treaty, 
which  is  called  in  history  the  Treaty  of  Edin- 
burgh, was  solemnly  signed  by  the  commission- 
ers appointed  to  make  it,  and  then  transmitted 
to  England  and  to  France  tr>  b«  ratified  by  th« 


1560.]      THE  WAR   IN  SCOTLAND.         159 

Stipulations  of  the  treaty.  Mary  refuses  to  ratify  U. 

respective  queen*.  Queen  Elizabeth's  forces 
and  the  French  forces  were  then  both,  as  the 
treaty  provided,  immediately  withdrawn.  The 
lispute,  too,  between  the  Protestants  and  the 
Catholics  in  Scotland  was  also  settled,  though 
rt  is  not  necessary  for  our  purpose  in  this  nar- 
rative to  explain  particularly  in  what  way. 

There  was  one  point,  however,  in  the  stipula- 
tions of  this  treaty  which  is  of  essential  import- 
ance in  this  narrative,  and  that  is,  that  it  waa 
agreed  that  Mary  should  relinquish  all  claims 
whatever  to  the  English  crown  so  long  as  Eliz- 
abeth lived.  This,  in  fact,  was  the  essential 
point  in  the  whole  transaction.  Mary,  it  is 
true,  was  not  present  to  agree  to  it;  but  the 
commissioners  agreed  to  it  in  her  name,  and  it 
was  stipulated  that  Mary  should  solemnly  ratify 
the  treaty  as  soon  as  it  could  be  sent  to  her. 

But  Mary  would  not  ratify  it — at  least  so  far 
as  this  last  article  was  concerned.  She  said 
that  she  had  no  intention  of  doing  any  thing  to 
moiest  Elizabeth  in  her  possession  of  the  throne, 
but  that  as  to  herself,  whatever  rights  might 
legally  and  justly  belong  to  her,  she  could  not 
consent  to  sign  them  away.  The  other  articles 
of  the  treaty  had,  however,  in  the  mean  time, 
brought  the  vrar  to  a  close,  and  both  the  Frenck 


160  QUEEN  ELIZABETH.          [1560 

Death  of  Miry'i  hu*band.  She  retumi  to  Scotland 

and  English  armies  were  withdrawn.  Neithei 
party  had  any  inclination  to  renew  the  conflict ; 
but  yet,  so  far  as  the  great  question  between 
Mary  and  Elizabeth  was  concerned,  the  diffi- 
unlty  was  as  far  from  being  settled  as  ever.  In 
feet,  it  was  in  a  worse  position  than  before ;  for, 
in  addition  to  her  other  grounds  of  complaint 
against  Mary,  Elizabeth  now  charged  her  with 
dishonorably  refusing  to  be  bound  by  a  compact 
which  had  been  solemnly  made  in  her  name,  by 
agents  whom  she  had  fully  authorized  to  make  it 
It  was  about  this  time  that  Mary's  husband, 
the  King  of  France,  died,  and,  after  enduring 
various  trials  and  troubles  in  France,  Mary  con- 
cluded to  return  to  her  own  realm.  She  sent 
to  Elizabeth  to  get  a  safe-conduct — a  sort  of 
permission  allowing  her  to  pass  unmolested 
through  the  English  seas.  Elizabeth  refused 
to  grant  it  unless  Mary  would  first  ratify  the 
treaty  of  Edinburgh.  This  Mary  would  not  do, 
but  undertook,  rather,  to  get  home  without  the 
permission.  Elizabeth  sent  ships  to  intercept 
her ;  but  Mary's  little  squadron,  when  they  ap- 
proached the  shore,  were  hidden  by  a  fog,  and 
•o  she  got  safe  to  land.  After  this  there  was 
quiet  between  Mary  and  Elizabeth  for  many 
rears,  but  no  peace. 


1560.]        ELIZABETH'S  LOVERS.  161 

Clitmanti  to  tb*  throoe.  General  chancier  of  EHs*beth'i  raifa 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

ELIZABETH'S  LOVERS. 

•j^LIZABETH  was  now  securely  establisheo 
••-^  upon  her  throne.  It  is  true  that  Mary 
Queen  of  Scots  had  not  renounced  her  preten- 
sions, but  there  was  no  immediate  prospect  of 
her  making  any  attempt  to  realize  them,  and 
very  little  hope  for  her  that  she  would  be  suc- 
cessful, if  she  were  to  undertake  it.  There  were 
other  claimants,  it  is  true,  but  their  claims  were 
more  remote  and  doubtful  than  Mary's.  These 
conflicting  pretensions  were  likely  to  make  the 
country  some  trouble  after  Elizabeth's  death, 
but  there  was  very  slight  probability  that  they 
would  sensibly  molest  Elizabeth's  possession  of 
the  throne  during  her  lifetime,  though  they 
caused  her  no  little  anxiety. 

The  reign  which  Elizabeth  thus  commenced 
was  one  of  the  longest,  most  brilliant,  and,  n 
many  respects,  the  most  prosperous  in  the  whole 
series  presented  to  our  view  in  the  long  succes- 
sion of  English  sovereigns.  Elizabeth  contin 
Mod  a  queen  for  forty-five  years,  during  all  which 
26—11 


162  QUEEN   ELIZABETH.          [1560 

Elisabeth  i  miton.  Their  motto* 

time  she  remained  a  single  lady ;  and  she  died, 
%t  last,  a  venerable  maiden,  seventy  years  of  age, 
It  was  not  for  want  of  lovers,  or,  rather,  of 
admirers  and  suitors,  that  Elizabeth  lived  single 
all  her  days.  During  the  first  twenty  years  of 
her  reign,  one  half  of  her  history  is  a  history  of 
matrimonial  schemes  and  negotiations.  It  seem- 
ed as  if  all  the  marriageable  princes  and  poten- 
tates of  Europe  were  seized,  one  after  another, 
with  a  desire  to  share  her  seat  upon  the  English 
throne.  They  tried  every  possible  means  to 
win  her  consent.  They  dispatched  embassa- 
dors ;  they  opened  long  negotiations ;  they  sent 
her  ship-loads  of  the  most  expensive  presents : 
some  of  the  nobles  of  high  rank  in  her  own  realm 
expended  their  vast  estates,  and  reduced  them- 
selves to  poverty,  in  vain  attempts  to  please  her. 
Elizabeth,  like  any  other  woman,  loved  these 
attentions  They  pleased  her  vanity,  and  grat- 
ttted  those  instinctive  impulses  of  the  female 
heart  by  which  woman  is  fitted  for  happiness 
and  love.  Elizabeth  encouraged  the  hopes  of 
those  who  addressed  her  sufficiently  to  keef 
them  from  giving  up  in  despair  and  abandoning 
her  And  in  one  or  two  cases  she  seemed  tr 
oorue  very  near  yielding.  But  it  always  hap 
pened  that,  when  the  time  arrived  in  which  • 


1560.]        ELIZABETH'S  LOVERS.  163 

Philip  of  Spain  proposes.  HU  strange  conduct 

final  decision  must  be  made,  ambition  and  de- 
sire of  power  proved  stronger  than  love,  and  she 
preferred  continuing  to  occupy  her  lofty  position 
lay  herself,  alone. 

Philip  of  Spain,  the  husband  of  her  sistei 
Mary,  was  the  first  of  these  suitors.  He  had 
seen  Elizabeth  a  good  deal  in  England  during 
his  residence  there,  and  had  even  taken  her 
part  in  her  difficulties  with  Mary,  and  had  ex- 
erted his  influence  to  have  her  released  from 
her  confinement.  As  soon  as  Mary  died  and 
Elizabeth  was  proclaimed,  one  of  her  first  acts 
was,  as  was  very  proper,  to  send  an  embassa- 
dor  to  Flanders  to  inform  the  bereaved  husband 
of  his  loss.  It  is  a  curious  illustration  of  the 
degree  and  kind  of  affection  that  Philip  had 
borne  to  his  departed  wife,  that  immediately  on 
receiving  intelligence  of  her  death  by  Elizabeth's 
embassador,  he  sent  a  special  dispatch  to  his 
own  embassador  in  London  to  make  a  proposal 
to  Elizabeth  to  take  him  for  her  husband ! 

Elizabeth  decided  very  soon  to  decline  this 
proposal.  She  had  ostensible  reasons,  and  real 
reasons  for  this.  The  chief  ostensible  reason 
was,  that  Philip  was  so  inveterately  hated  by 
all  the  English  people,  and  Elizabeth  was  ex* 
tremely  desirous  of  being  popular.  She  relied 


164  QL-KKN    ELIZABKTH.  [1560 

Kttubeth  deelinet  Phlllp'i  prepoML  Her  reMoo*  for  *o  doinfl 

solely  on  the  loyalty  and  faithfulness  of  her  Prot- 
estant subjects  to  maintain  her  rights  to  the  sue- 
cession,  and  she  knew  that  if  she  displeased 
them  by  such  an  unpopular  Catholic  marriage, 
ker  reliance  upon  them  must  be  very  much 
weakened.  They  might  even  abandon  her  en- 
tirely. The  reason,  therefore,  that  she  assigned 
publicly  was,  that  Philip  was  a  Catholic,  and 
that  the  connection  could  not,  on  that  account, 
be  agreeable  to  the  English  people. 

Among  the  real  reasons  was  one  of  a  very 
peculiar  nature.  It  happened  that  there  was 
an  objection  to  her  marriage  with  Philip  simi- 
lar to  the  one  urged  against  that  of  Henry  with 
Catharine  of  Aragon.  Catharine  had  been  tho 
wife  of  Henry's  brother.  Philip  had  been  tho 
husband  of  Elizabeth's  sister.  Now  Philip  had 
offered  to  procure  the  pope's  dispensation,  by 
which  means  this  difficulty  would  be  surmount- 
ed. But  then  all  the  world  would  say,  that  if 
this  dispensation  could  legalize  the  latter  mar- 
riage, the  former  must  have  been  legalized  by 
it,  and  this  would  destroy  the  marriage  of  Anne 
Boleyn,  and  with  it  all  Elizabeth's  claims  to  the 
ftuooession.  She  could  not,  then,  marry  Philip, 
without,  by  the  very  act,  effectually  undermin- 
ing all  her  own  rights  to  the  throne.  She  wa» 


1500.]        ELIZABETH'S   LOVERS.  166 

The  English  people  wiah  Elizabeth  to  bo  married. 

far  too  subtle  and  wary  to  stumble  into  such  a 
pitfat  as  that. 

Elizabeth  rejected  this  and  some  other  offers, 
aud  one  or  two  years  passed  away.  In  the 
mean  time,  the  people  of  the  country,  though 
they  had  no  wish  to  have  her  marry  such  a 
stern  and  heartless  tyrant  as  Philip  of  Spain, 
were  very  uneasy  at  the  idea  of  her  not  being 
married  at  all.  Her  life  would,  of  course,  in 
due  time,  come  to  an  end,  and  it  was  of  im- 
mense importance  to  the  peace  and  happiness 
of  the  realm  that,  after  her  death,  there  should 
be  no  doubt  about  the  succession.  If  she  were 
to  be  married  and  leave  children,  they  would 
succeed  to  the  throne  without  question ;  but  if 
she  were  to  die  single  and  childless,  the  result 
would  be,  they  feared,  that  the  Catholics  would 
espouse  the  cause  of  Mary  Queen  of  Scots,  and 
the  Protestants  that  of  some  Protestant  descend- 
ant  of  Henry  VII.,  and  thus  the  country  be  in- 
volved in  all  the  horrors  of  a  protracted  civil  war. 

The  House  of  Commons  in  those  days  was  a 
very  humble  council,  convened  to  discuss  and 
settle  mere  internal  and  domestic  affairs,  and 
standing  at  a  vast  distance  from  the  splendoi 
and  power  of  royalty,  to  which  it  looked  up  with 
the  profoundest  reverence  and  awe.  The  Com- 


166  QUEEN   ELIZABETH.          [1560 

Ncttkm  of  the  ParlluMt  ElUmbeth'i  "  fndont"  reply 

monv,  at  the  close  of  one  of  their  sessions,  ven- 
tured, in  a  very  timid  and  cautious  manner,  to 
•end  a  petition  to  the  queen,  urging  her  to  con- 
sent, for  the  sake  of  the  future  peace  of  the 
realm,  and  th"  welfare  of  her  subjects,  to  accept 
of  a  husband.  Few  single  persons  are  offended 
at  a  recommendation  of  marriage,  if  properly 
offered,  from  whatever  quarter  it  may  come. 
The  queen,  in  this  instance,  returned  what  was 
called  a  very  gracious  reply.  She,  however, 
very  decidedly  refused  the  request.  She  said 
that,  as  they  had  been  very  respectful  in  the 
form  of  their  petition,  and  as  they  had  confined 
it  to  general  terms,  without  presuming  to  sug- 
gest either  a  person  or  a  time,  she  would  not 
take  offense  at  their  well-intended  suggestion, 
but  that  she  had  no  design  of  ever  being  mar- 
ried. At  her  coronation,  she  was  married,  she 
said,  to  her  people,  and  the  wedding  ring  was 
upon  her  finger  still.  Her  people  were  the  ob- 
jects of  all  her  affection  and  regard.  She  should 
never  have  any  other  spouse.  She  said  she 
•honld  be  well  contented  to  have  it  engraved 
upon  her  tomb-stone,  "  Here  lies  a  qn^en  wtv> 
lived  and  died  a  virgin." 

This  answer  silenced  the  Common*,  but  it 
did  not  settle  the  question  in  the  public  mind 


1560.]        ELIZABETH'S    LOVERS.  16? 

BUabeth  attacked  with  the  nnafl-pox  Aim  at  the  •enatry 

Cases  often  oootir  of  ladies  saying  very  positive- 
ly that  they  shall  never  consent  to  be  married, 
and  yet  afterward  altering  their  minds;  and 
many  ladies,  knowing  how  frequently  this  takes 
place,  sagaciously  conclude  that,  whatever  se- 
cret resolutions  they  may  form,  they  will  be  si- 
lent  about  them,  lest  they  get  into  a  position 
from  which  it  will  be  afterward  awkward  to  re- 
treat. The  princes  of  the  Continent  and  the 
nobles  of  England  paid  no  regard  to  Elizabeth's 
declaration,  but  continued  to  do  all  in  their  pow- 
er to  obtain  her  hand. 

One  or  two  years  afterward  Elizabeth  was 
attacked  with  the  small-pox,  and  for  a  time  was 
dangerously  sick,  in  iact,  for  some  days  her 
life  was  despaired  of,  and  the  country  was  thrown 
into  a  great  state  of  confusion  and  dismay.  Par- 
ties began  to  form — the  Catholics  for  Mary 
Queen  of  Soots,  and  the  Protestants  for  the  fam- 
ily of  Jane  Grey.  Every  thing  portended  a 
dreadful  contest  Elizabeth,  however,  recov- 
ered ;  but  the  country  had  been  so  much  alarm* 
ed  at  their  narrow  escape,  that  Parliament  ven- 
tured once  more  to  address  the  queen  on  the 
subject  of  her  marriage.  They  begged  that  she 
would  either  consent  to  that  measure,  or,  if  she 
was  finally  determined  not  to  do  that,  that  shr 


168  QuBKif  ELIZABETH.          [1560 

Tto  E*rt  of  LekMtoi.  HU  ehanetnr 

would  cause  a  law  to  be  passed,  or  an  edict  to 
oe  promulgated,  deciding  beforehand  who  was 
really  to  succeed  to  the  throne  in  the  event  of 
ner  deooase. 

Elizabeth  would  not  do  either.  Historian* 
have  speculated  a  great  deal  upon  her  motives ; 
all  that  is  certain  is  the  fact,  she  would  not  do 
jither. 

But,  though  Elizabeth  thus  resisted  all  the 
plans  formed  for  giving  her  a  husband,  she  had, 
in  her  own  court,  a  famous  personal  favorite, 
who  has  always  been  considered  as  in  some 
•ense  her  lover.  His  name  was  originally  Rob- 
ert Dudley,  though  she  made  him  Earl  of  Lei- 
cester, and  he  is  commonly  designated  in  histo- 
ry by  this  latter  name.  He  was  a  son  of  the 
Duke  of  Northumberland,  who  was  the  leader 
of  the  plot  for  placing  Lady  Jane  Grey  upon 
the  throne  in  the  time  of  Mary.  He  was  a 
very  elegant  and  accomplished  man,  and  young, 
though  already  married.  Elizabeth  advanced 
him  to  high  offices  and  honors  very  early  in  her 
reign,  and  kept  him  much  at  court  She  made 
him  her  Master  of  Horse,  but  she  did  not  be- 
stow upon  him  much  real  power.  Cecil  waa 
ner  great  counselor  and  minister  of  state.  Ho 
was  a  oool,  sagacious,  wary  man,  entirely  de- 


POBTBAIT    OF   TH*   E*.»L   OF   LBIOBSTBB. 


1560.]        ELIZABETH'S  LOVERS. 


of  Ocll  EUaaiMth'i  attachment  to  Leicester 

voted  to  Elizabeth's  interests,  and  to  the  glory 
and  prosperity  of  the  realm.  He  was  at  this 
time,  as  has  already  been  stated,  forty  years  of 
age,  thirteen  or  fourteen  years  older  than  Eliz- 
abeth. Elizabeth  showed  great  sagacity  in  se- 
lecting such  a  minister,  and  great  wisdom  in 
keeping  him  in  power  so  long.  He  remained 
in  her  service  all  his  life,  and  died  at  last,  only 
a  few  years  before  Elizabeth,  when  he  was  near- 
ly eighty  years  of  age. 

Dudley,  on  the  other  hand,  was  just  about 
Elizabeth's  own  age.  In  fact,  it  is  said  by  some 
of  the  chronicles  of  the  times  that  he  was  born 
on  the  same  day  and  hour  with  her.  However 
this  may  be,  he  became  a  great  personal  favor- 
ite, and  Elizabeth  evinced  a  degree  and  kind 
of  attachment  to  him  which  subjected  her  to  a 
great  deal  of  censure  and  reproach. 

She  could  not  be  thinking  of  him  for  her  hus- 
band, it  would  seem,  for  he  was  already  mar- 
ried. Just  about  this  time,  however,  a  myste- 
rious circumstance  occurred,  which  produced  a 
great  deal  of  excitement,  and  has  ever  since 
marked  a  very  important  era  in  the  history  of 
Leicester  and  Elizabeth's  attachment.  It  was 
the  sudden  and  rery  singular  death  of  Leices- 
ter's wife. 


172  (^UBEN  ELIZABETH.          [1560 


'»  wife.  Her  AjntarioM  death. 

Leicester  had,  among  his  other  estates,  a 
lonely  mansion  in  Berkshire,  about  fifty  miles 
jrest  of  London.  It  was  called  Cumnor  House. 
Leicester's  wife  was  sent  there,  no  one  knew 
why;  she  went  under  the  charge  of  a  gentle- 
man who  was  one  of  Leicester's  dependents,  and 
entirely  devoted  to  his  will.  The  house,  too, 
was  occupied  by  a  man  who  had  the  character 
of  being  ready  for  any  deed  which  might  be  re 
quired  of  him  by  his  master.  The  name  of 
Leicester's  wife  was  Amy  Robesart. 

In  a  short  time  news  came  to  London  that 
the  unhappy  woman  was  killed  by  a  fall  down 
stairs  !  The  instantaneous  suspicion  darted  at 
once  into  every  one's  mind  that  she  had  been 
murdered.  Rumors  circulated  all  around  the 
place  where  the  death  had  occurred  that  she 
had  been  murdered.  A  conscientious  clergy- 
man of  the  neighborhood  sent  an  account  of  the 
case  to  London,  to  the  queen's  ministers,  star 
ing  the  facts,  and  urging  the  queen  to  order  ai» 
investigation  of  the  affair,  but  nothing  was  ever 
done.  It  has  accordingly  been  the  general  be 
lief  of  mankind  since  that  time,  that  the  un- 
principled courtier  destroyed  his  wife  in  the  *ain 
hope  of  becoming  afterward  the  husband  o'  the 
queen 


1560.]        ELIZABKTH'S   LOVBRS.  173 

Leicester  hated  by  the  people.  Variotu  nnnon. 

The  people  of  England  were  greatly  incensed 
at  this  transaction.  They  had  hated  Leicester 
before,  and  they  hated  him  now  more  inveterate- 
ly  still.  Favorites  are  very  generally  hated ; 
royal  favorites  always.  He,  however,  grew  more 
and  more  intimate  with  the  queen,  and  every 
body  feared  that  he  was  going  to  be  her  hus- 
band. Their  conduct  was  watched  very  close- 
ly by  all  the  great  world,,  and,  as  is  usual  in 
such  cases,  a  thousand  circumstances  and  oc- 
currences were  reported  busily  from  tongue  to 
tongue,  which  the  actors  in  them  doubtless  sup- 
posed passed  unobserved  or  were  forgotten. 

One  night,  for  instance,  Queen  Elizabeth, 
having  supped  with  Dudley,  was  going  home  in 
her  chair,  lighted  by  torch  -  bearers.  At  the 
present  day,  all  London  is  lighted  brilliantly  at 
midnight  with  gas,  and  ladies  go  home  from 
their  convivial  and  pleasure  assemblies  in  lux- 
urious carriages,  in  which  they  are  rocked  gen- 
tly along  through  broad  and  magnificent  ave- 
nues, as  bright,  almost,  as  day.  Then,  how- 
ever, it  was  very  different.  The  lady  was 
borne  slowly  along  through  narrow,  and  dingy, 
and  dangerous  streets,  witJr  %  train  of  torches 
before  and  behind  her,  dispelling  the  darkness 
a  moment  with  their  glare,  and  then  leaving  it 


x74  QJKKN  ELIZABETH.  [1560. 

fb«  torch-light  conr«rMtlon.  The  •orrmnU  qnarntl 

more  deep  and  somber  than  ever.  On  the  night 
of  which  we  are  speaking,  Elizabeth,  feeling  in 
good  humor,  began  to  talk  with  some  of  the 
torch-bearers  on  the  way.  They  were  Dudley's 
men,  and  Elizabeth  began  to  praise  their  mas- 
ter. She  said  to  one  of  them,  among  other 
things,  that  she  was  going  to  raise  him  to  a 
higher  position  than  an}  of  his  name  had  ever 
borne  before.  Now,  as  Dudley's  father  was  a 
duke,  which  title  denotes  the  highest  rank  of 
the  English  nobility,  the  man  inferred  that  the 
queen's  meaning  was  that  she  intended  to  mar- 
ry him,  and  thus  make  him  a  sort  of  king.  The 
man  told  the  story  boastingly  to  one  of"  the 
servants  of  Lord  Arundel,  who  was  also  a  suit- 
or of  the  queen's.  The  servants,  each  taking 
the  part  of  his  master  in  the  rivalry,  quarreled. 
Lord  Arundel's  man  said  that  he  wished  that 
Dudley  had  been  hung  witn  nis  father,  or  else 
that  somebody  would  shoot  him  in  the  street 
arith  a  dag.  A  dag  was,  in  the  language  of 
those  days,  the  name  for  a  pistol. 

Time  moved  on,  and  though  Leicester  seem- 
ed to  become  more  and  more  a  favorite,  the 
}oian  of  his  being  married  to  Elizabeth,  if  any 
•uoh  were  entertained  by  either  paity,  appeared 
*o  oome  no  nearer  to  an  aocommishment.  Eli* 


1561.]        ELIZABETH'S   LOVBRS.  175 

•pUadid  style  of  Byte*.  PwhUc  •m*mmti* 

abeth  lived  in  great  state  and  splendor,  some* 
times  residing  in  ner  palaces  in  or  near  London, 
and  sometimes  making  royal  progresses  about 
her  dominions.  Dudley,  together  with  the  other 
prominent  members  of  her  court,  accompanied 
her  on  these  excursions,  and  obviously  enjoyed 
a  very  high  degree  of  personal  favor.  She  en- 
couraged, at  the  same  time,  her  other  suitors, 
so  that  on  all  the  great  public  occasions  of  state, 
at  the  tilts  and  tournaments,  at  the  plays — 
which,  by-the-way,  in  those  days  were  perform- 
ed in  the  churches— on  all  the  royal  progresses 
and  grand  receptions  at  cities,  castles,  and  uni- 
versities, the  lady  queen  was  surrounded  al- 
ways by  royal  or  noble  beaux,  who  made  her 
presents,  and  paid  her  a  thousand  compliments, 
and  offered  her  gallant  attentions  without  num- 
ber— all  prompted  by  ambition  in  the  guise  of 
love.  They  smiled  upon  the  queen  with  a  per- 
petual sycophancy,  and  gnashed  their  teeth  se- 
cretly upon  each  other  with  a  hatred  which, 
unlike  the  pretended  love,  was  at  least  honest 
and  sincere.  Leicester  was  the  gayest,  most 
accomplished,  and  most  favored  of  them  all,  and 
the  rest  accordingly  combined  and  agreed  in 
hating  him  more  than  they  did  each  other. 
Queen  Elizabeth,  however,  never  really  aV 


176  QUEEN  ELIZABETH.  [1561 

Eiiabcfh  reeommendj  Leicester  to  Mary  Qnaea  of  Scott. 

mitted  that  she  had  any  design  of  making  Lei- 
oester,  or  Dudley,  as  he  is  indiscriminately  call- 
ed, her  husband.  In  fact,  at  one  time  she  rec- 
ommended him  to  Mary  Queen  of  Soots  for  « 
husband.  After  Mary  returned  to  Scotland, 
the  two  queens  were,  for  a  time,  on  good  terms, 
as  professed  friends,  though  they  were,  in  fact, 
all  the  time,  most  inveterate  and  implacable 
foes ;  but  each,  knowing  how  much  injury  the 
other  might  do  her,  wished  to  avoid  exciting 
any  unnecessary  hostility.  Mary,  particularly, 
as  she  found  she  could  not  get  possession  of  the 
English  throne  during  Elizabeth's  life-time, 
concluded  to  try  to  conciliate  her,  in  hopes  to 
persuade  her  to  acknowledge,  by  act  of  Parlia- 
ment, her  right  to  the  succession  after  her 
death.  So  she  used  to  confer  with  Elizabeth 
on  the  subject  of  her  own  marriage,  and  to  ask 
her  advice  about  it.  Elizabeth  did  not  wish  to 
have  Mary  married  at  all,  and  so  she  always 
proposed  somebody  who  she  knew  would  be  out 
of  the  question.  She  at  one  time  proposed  Lei- 
oeater,  and  for  a  time  seemed  quite  in  earnest 
about  it,  especially  so  long  as  Mary  seemed 
averse  to  it.  At  length,  however,  when  Mary, 
in  order  to  test  her  sincerity,  seemed  inclined 
to  yield,  Elizabeth  retreated  in  her  turn,  and 


1562.]      ELIZABETH'S   LOVERS.  177 

Mary  marrUi  Dtnley.  .  Kttiabeth'i  rUit  to  BJwfl  wor*. 

withdrew  her  proposals.  Mary  then  gave  np 
th«  hope  of  satisfying  Elizabeth  in  any  way 
and  married  Lord  Darnley  without  her  consent 
Elizabeth's  regard  for  Dudley,  however,  still 
sun  tinned.  She  made  him  Earl  of  Leicester, 
•ml  granted  him  the  magnificent  castle  of  Ken- 
ilworth,  with  a  large  estate  adjoining  and  sur- 
rounding it ;  the  rents  of  the  lands  giving  him 
&  princely  income,  and  enabling  him  to  live  in 
almost  royal  state.  Queen  Elizabeth  visited 
him  frequently  in  this  castle.  One  of  these  vis- 
its is  very  minutely  described  by  the  chroniclers 
of  the  times.  The  earl  made  the  most  expens- 
ive and  extraordinary  preparations  for  the  re- 
ception and  entertainment  of  the  qusen  and  her 
retinue  on  this  occasion.  The  moat — which  is 
a  broad  canal  filled  with  water  surrounding  the 
castle — had  a  floating  island  upon  it,  with  a 
fictitious  personage  whom  they  called  the  lady 
of  the  lake  upon  the  island,  who  sung  a  song  in 
praise  of  Elizabetn  as  she  passed  the  bridge. 
There  was  also  an  artificial  dolphin  swimming 
upon  the  water,  with  a  band  of  musicians  with- 
in it.  As  the  queen  advanced  across  the  park, 
men  and  women,  in  strange  disguises,  came  out 
to  meet  her,  and  to  offer  her  salutations  and 
praises.  One  was  dressed  as  a  sibyl,  another 
26—12 


178  CiuEEN  ELIZABETH.          t1577 

L«*of*tcr't  marriage.  EUMbeth  (and*  him  to  prlxm 

like  an  American  savage,  and  a  third,  who  wai 
concealed,  represented  an  echo.  This  visit  was 
continued  for  nineteen  days,  and  the  stories  of 
the  splendid  entertainments  provided  foi  the 
company — the  plays,  the  bear-baitings,  the  fire- 
works, the  huntings,  the  mock  rights,  the  feast- 
ings  and  revelries — filled  all  Europe  at  the 
time,  and  have  been  celebrated  by  historians 
and  story-tellers  ever  since.  The  Castle  of 
Kenilworth  is  now  a  very  magnificent  heap  of 
ruins,  and  is  explored  every  year  by  thousand* 
of  visitors  from  every  quarter  of  the  globe. 

Leicester,  if  he  ever  really  entertained  any 
serious  designs  of  being  Elizabeth's  husband 
at  last  gave  up  his  hopes,  and  married  anothat 
woman.  This  lady  had  been  the  wife  of  tho 
Earl  of  Essex.  Her  husband  died  very  sud- 
denly and  mysteriously  just  before  Leicester 
married  her.  Leicester  kept  the  marriage  se- 
cret for  some  time,  and  when  it  came  at  last  to 
the  queen's  knowledge  she  was  exceedingly  an- 
gry. She  had  him  arrested  and  sent  to  prison. 
However,  she  gradually  recovered  from  her  fit 
of  resentment,  and  by  degrees  restored  him  to 
her  favor  again. 

Twenty  years  of  Elizabeth's  reign  thus  pass- 
ed away,  and  no  one  of  all  her  suitors  had  sue* 


1577.]       ELIZABETH'S    LOVEEB.  179 

Pn»p«rUy  of  HlMbeth'i  relfa.  Tta  Duke  »f  Aajou 

eeeded  in  obtaining  her  hand.  All  this  time  her 
government  had  been  administered  with  much 
sffioiency  and  power.  All  Europe  had  been  in 
great  commotion  during  almost  the  whole  pe- 
riod, on  account  of  the  terrible  conflicts  which 
were  raging  between  the  Catholics  and  the 
Protestants,  each  party  having  been  doing  its 
utmost  to  exterminate  and  destroy  the  other 
Elizabeth  and  her  government  took  part,  very 
frequently,  hi  these  contests ;  sometimes  by  ne- 
gotiations, and  sometimes  by  fleets  and  armies, 
but  always  sagaciously  and  cautiously,  and  gen- 
erally with  great  effect.  In  the  mean  time, 
however,  the  queen,  being  now  forty-five  years 
of  age,  was  rapidly  approaching  the  tune  when 
questions  of  marriage  could  no  longer  be  enter- 
tained. Her  lovers,  or,  rather,  her  suitors,  had, 
one  after  another,  given  up  the  pursuit,  and 
disappeared  from  the  field.  One  only  seemed 
at  length  to  remain,  on  the  decision  of  whose 
fate  the  final  result  of  the  great  question  of  the 
queen's  marriage  seemed  to  be  pending. 

It  was  the  Duke  of  Anjou.  Ho  was  a  French 
prince.  His  brother,  who  had  been  the  Duke 
of  Anjou  before  him,  was  now  King  Henry  HI. 
of  France.  His  own  name  was  Francis.  He 
was  twenty  five  years  younger  than  Elizabeth, 


180  QUEEN   ELIZABETH.          [1581 

QKhiriM  da  MwM«L  8b«  propoM*  kw  MM  to  KlU.b^b. 

and  he  was  only  seventeen  years  of  age  when 
It  was  first  proposed  that  he  should  marry  her. 
Be  was  then  Duke  of  Alenpon.  It  was  hi* 
mother's  plan.  She  was  the  great  Catharine 
ie  Medioi,  queen  of  France,  and  one  of  the  most 
extraordinary  women,  for  her  talents,  her  man- 
agement, and  her  power,  that  ever  lived.  Hav- 
ing one  son  upon  the  throne  of  France,  she  want- 
ed the  throne  of  England  for  the  other.  The 
negotiation  had  been  pending  fruitlessly  for 
many  years,  and  now,  in  1581,  it  was  vigorous- 
ly renewed.  The  duke  himself,  who  was  at 
this  time  a  young  man  of  twenty-four  or  five, 
began  to  be  impatient  and  earnest  in  his  suit. 
There  was,  in  fact,  one  good  reason  why  he 
should  be  so.  Elizabeth  was  forty-eight,  and,  un- 
less the  match  were  soon  concluded,  the  time  for 
effecting  it  would  be  obviously  forever  gone  by. 
He  had  never  had  an  interview  with  the 
queen.  He  had  seen  pictures  of  her,  however, 
and  he  sent  an  embassador  ovei  to  England  to 
irge  his  suit;  and  to  convince  Elizabeth  how 
umoh  he  was  in  love  with  her  charms  The 
aame  of  this  agent  was  Simier.  He  was  a 
very  polite  and  accomplished  man,  and  soon 
•earned  the  art  of  winning  his  way  to  Eliza- 
beth's favor.  Leicester  was  very  jealous  of  hi* 


. |        ELIZABETH'S   LOVERS.  183 

HMIT«I*  of  the  ftrorttef.  The  »bo* 

success.  The  two  favorites  soon  imbibed  a  ter 
rible  enmity  for  each  other.  They  filled  th« 
sourt  with  their  quarrels.  The  progress  of  the 
negotiation,  however,  went  on,  the  people  tak- 
ing sides  very  violently,  some  for  and  some 
against  the  projected  marriage.  The  animosi- 
ties became  exceedingly  virulent,  until  at  length 
Simier's  life  seemed  to  be  in  danger.  He  said 
that  Leicester  had  hired  one  of  the  guards  to 
assassinate  him ;  and  it  is  a  fact,  that  one  day, 
as  he  and  the  queen,  with  other  attendants, 
were  making  an  excursion  upon  the  river,  a  shod, 
was  tired  from  the  shore  into  the  barga  The 
shot  did  no  injury  except  to  wound  one  of  the 
oarsmen,  and  frighten  all  the  party  pretty  thor- 
oughly. Some  thought  the  shot  was  aimed  at 
Simier,  and  others  at  the  queen  herself.  It  was 
afterward  proved,  or  supposed  to  be  proved,  that 
this  shot  was  the  accidental  discharge  of  a  gun, 
without  any  evil  intention  whatever. 

In  the  mean  time,  Elizabeth  grew  more  and 
more  interested  in  the  idea  of  having  the  young 
duke  for  her  husband ;  and  it  seemed  as  if  th« 
maidenly  resolutions,  which  had  stood  then 
ground  so  firmly  for  twenty  years,  were  to  be 
conquered  at  last.  The  more,  however,  she 
•eemed  to  approach  toward  a  consent  to  the 


194  QVKKII   BLIZABKTK.          [158L 

TW  poopl*  oppOM  Ik*  mttek  The  »rr»ng»ni«snt»  ooerjpkdod 

measure,  the  more  did  all  the  officers  of  her  gor- 
ernment,  and  the  nation  at  large,  oppose  it 
There  were,  in  their  minds,  two  insuperable  ob 
jeotions  to  tha  match.  The  candidate  was  i 
Frenchman,  and  he  was  a  papist.  The  coun- 
cil interceded.  Friends  remonstrated.  The  na- 
tion murmured  and  threatened.  A  book  was 
published  entitled  "  The  Discovery  of  a  gaping 
Gulf  wherein  England  is  like  to  be  swallowed 
up  by  another  French  marriage,  unless  the  Lord 
forbid  the  Bans  by  letting  her  see  the  Sin  and 
Punishment  thereof."  The  author  cf  it  haJ 
his  right  hand  cut  oflj  for  his  punishment. 

At  length,  after  a  series  of  most  extraordi- 
nary discussions,  negotiations,  and  occurrences, 
which  kept  the  whole  country  in  a  state  of  great 
excitement  for  a  long  time,  the  affair  was  at 
last  all  settled.  The  marriage  articles,  both 
political  and  personal,  were  all  arranged.  The 
nuptials  were  to  be  celebrated  in  six  weeks. 
The  duke  came  over  in  great  state  and  waa 
received  with  all  possible  pomp  and  parade 
Festivals  and  banquets  were  arranged  without 
number,  and  in  the  most  magnificent  style,  tr 
do  him  and  his  attendants  honor.  At  one  cf 
them,  the  queen  took  off  a  ring  from  her  finger, 
and  put  it  upon  his,  in  the  presence  of  a  gre»1 


1581.]        ELIZABETH'S    LOVERS  185 

n»  match  brokra  «C  The  dake1.  raff*. 

assembly,  which  was  the  first  announcement  to 
the  publio  that  the  affair  was  finally  settled. 
The  news  spread  every  where  with  great  rapid* 
Hy.  It  produced  in  England  great  consterna- 
tion and  distress,  but  on  the  Continent  it  was 
welcomed  with  joy,  and  the  great  English  alli- 
ance, now  so  obviously  approaching,  was  cele- 
brated with  ringing  of  bells,  bonfires,  and  grand 
illuminations. 

And  yet,  notwithstanding  all  this,  as  soon  aa 
the  obstacles  were  all  removed,  and  there  waa 
no  longer  opposition  to  stimulate  the  determi- 
nation of  the  queen,  her  heart  failed  her  at  last, 
and  she  finally  concluded  that  she  would  not  be 
married,  after  all  She  sent  for  the  duke  one 
morning  to  come  and  see  her.  What  takes  place 
precisely  between  ladies  and  gentlemen  when 
they  break  off  their  engagements  is  not  gener 
ally  very  publicly  known,  but  the  duke  came  out 
from  this  interview  in  a  fit  of  great  vexation  and 
anger.  He  pullsd  off  the  queen's  ring  and 
threw  it  from  him.  muttering  curses  upon  the 
fickleness  and  faithlessness  of  women. 

Still  Elizabeth  would  not  admit  that  the 
match  was  broken  off.  She  continued  to  treat 
the  duke  with  civility  and  to  pay  him  many 
honors.  He  decided,  however,  to  return  to  tha 


196  QuEEri   ELIZABETH.  [1581 


fbe  dak*'*  deputu*. 


Continent.  She  accompanied  him  a  part  of  the 
way  to  the  coast,  and  took  leave  of  him  with 
many  professions  of  sorrow  at  the  parting,  and 
begged  him  to  come  back  soon.  This  he  prom- 
ised to  do.  but  he  never  returned.  He  lived 
•ome  time  afterward  in  comparative  neglect  and 
obscurity,  and  mankind  considered  the  question 
of  the  marriage  of  Elizabeth  as  now,  at  last 
settled  forever. 


/560-80.,  PERSONAL  CHARACTER.        187 

Opinion*  of  Elizabeth1!  character  Th*  Catholics  and  Protowtante 


CHAPTER  IX. 
PERSONAL  CHARACTER. 

"VCANKIND  have  always  been  very  mneJi 
— *-•-  divided  in  opinion  in  respect  to  the  per- 
sonal character  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  but  in  one 
point  all  have  agreed,  and  that  is,  that  in  the 
management  of  public  affairs  she  was  a  wom- 
an of  extraordinary  talent  and  sagacity,  com- 
bining, in  a  very  remarkable  degree,  a  certain 
cautious  good  sense  and  prudence  with  the  most 
determined  resolution  and  energy. 

She  reigned  about  forty  years,  and  during 
almost  all  that  time  the  whole  western  part  of 
the  Continent  of  Europe  was  convulsed  with  the 
most  terrible  conflicts  between  the  Protestant 
and  Catholic  parties.  The  predominance  of 
power  was  with  the  Catholics,  and  was,  of 
course,  hostile  to  Elizabeth.  She  had,  more- 
over, in  the  field  a  very  prominent  competitor 
for  her  throne  in  Mary  Queen  of  Scots.  The 
foreign  Protestant  powers  were  ready  to  aid  thia 
claimant,  and  there  was,  besides,  in  her  own 
dominions  a  very  powerful  interest  in  her  favor 


188  QUEEN  ELIZABETH.    [1560-80 

Partial  in  England.  Kli««beth'i  wise  adminictntlaai 

The  great  divisions  of  sentiment  in  England, 
and  the  energy  with  which  each  party  struggled 
against  its  opponents,  produced,  at  all  times,  • 
prodigious  pressure  of  opposing  forces,  which 
bore  heavily  upon  the  safety  of  the  state  and  of 
Elizabeth's  government,  and  threatened  them 
with  continual  danger.  The  administration  of 
public  affairs  moved  on,  during  all  this  time, 
trembling  continually  under  the  heavy  shocks  it 
was  constantly  receiving,  like  a  ship  staggering 
on  in  a  storm,  its  safety  depending  on  the  nice 
equilibrium  between  the  shocks  of  the  seas,  tho 
pressure  of  the  wind  upon  the  sails,  and  the 
weight  and  steadiness  of  the  ballast  below. 

During  all  this  forty  years  it  is  admitted  thai 
Elizabeth  and  her  wise  and  sagacious  minis- 
ters managed  very  admirably.  They  main- 
tained the  position  and  honor  of  England,  as  a 
Protestant  power,  with  great  success ;  and  the 
country,  during  the  whole  period,  made  great 
progress  in  the  arts,  in  commerce,  and  in  im- 
provements of  every  kind.  Elizabeth's  great* 
est  danger,  and  her  greatest  source  of  solicitude 
during  her  whole  reign,  was  from  the  claims  of 
Mary  Queen  of  Scots.  We  have  already  de- 
scribed the  energetic  measures  which  she  took 
at  the  commencement  of  her  reign  to  counter 


1560-80.]  PERSONAL   CHARACTER 

Mary  fj»imf  the  English  throne.        Sho  1<  made  prisoner  by  Elizabeth. 

act  and  head  off,  at  the  outset,  these  dangerous 
pretensions.  Though  these  efforts  were  tri- 
umphantly successful  at  the  time,  still  the  vic- 
tory was  not  final.  It  postponed,  but  did  not 
destroy,  the  danger.  Mary  continued  to  claim 
the  English  throne.  Innumerable  plots  were 
oeginning  to  be  formed  among  the  Catholics,  in 
Elizabeth's  own  dominions,  for  making  her 
queen.  Foreign  potentates  and  powers  were 
watching  an  opportunity  to  assist  in  these  plans. 
At  last  Mary,  on  account  of  internal  difficulties 
in  her  own  land,  fled  across  the  frontier  into 
England  to  save  her  life,  and  Elizabeth  made 
her  prisoner. 

In  England,  to  plan  or  design  the  dethrone- 
ment  of  a  monarch  is,  in  a  subject,  high  trea- 
son. Mary  had  undoubtedly  designed  the  de- 
thronement of  Elizabeth,  and  was  waiting  only 
an  opportunity  to  accomplish  it.  Elizabeth, 
consequently,  condemned  her  as  guilty  of  trea- 
son, in  effect ;  and  Mary's  sole  defense  against 
this  charge  was  that  she  was  not  a  subject. 
Elizabeth  yielded  to  this  plea,  when  she  first 
found  Mary  in  her  power,  so  far  as  not  to  take 
her  life,  but  she  consigned  her  to  a  long  and 
w^ary  captivity. 

This,  however,  onlv  made  the  matter  worm 


190  QUEEN  ELIZABETH.  [1586 

Varloiu  plot*.  Enentkm  of  Mary 

It  stimulated  the  enthusiasm  and  zeal  of  all  the 
Catholics  in  England,  to  have  their  leader,  and 
as  they  believed,  their  rightful  queen,  a  oaptiv* 
in  the  midst  of  them,  and  they  formed  contin- 
ually the  most  extensive  and  most  dangerous 
plots.  These  plots  were  discovered  and  sup- 
pressed, one  after  another,  each  one  producing 
more  anxiety  and  alarm  than  the  preceding. 
For  a  time  Mary  suffered  no  evil  consequences 
from  these  discoveries  further  than  an  increase 
of  the  rigors  of  her  confinement.  At  last  the 
patience  of  the  queen  and  of  her  government 
was  exhausted.  A  law  was  passed  against 
treason,  expressed  in  such  terms  as  to  include 
Mary  in  the  liability  for  its  dreadful  penalties 
although  she  was  not  a  subject,  in  case  of  any 
new  transgression ;  and  when  the  next  case  oc- 
curred, they  brought  her  to  trial  and  condemn- 
ed  her  to  death.  The  sentence  was  executed 
in  the  gloomy  castle  of  Fotheringay,  where  she 
was  then  confined. 

As  to  the  question  whether  Mary  or  Eliza- 
beth had  the  rightful  title  to  the  English  crown, 
it  has  not  only  never  been  settled,  but  from  ita 
very  nature  it  can  not  be  settled.  It  is  one  of 
those  oases  in  which  a  peculiar  contingency  oc- 
ean which  runs  beyond  the  doone  and  reach  »1 


586.]       PERSONAL  CHARACTER.  191 

Tha  Un  possibility  of  tettling  the  claim*  of  Mary  and  ElUmbeth. 

all  the  ordinary  principles  by  which  analogous 
oases  are  tried,  and  leads  to  questions  which 
oan  not  be  decided.  As  long  as  a  hereditary 
gnccession  goes  smoothly  on,  like  a  river  keep- 
Ing  within  its  banks,  we  can  decide  subordinate 
and  incidental  questions  which  may  arise ;  but 
when  a  case  occurs  in  which  we  have  the  om- 
nipotence of  Parliament  to  set  off  against  the 
infallibility  of  the  pope— the  sacred  obligations 
of  a  will  against  the  equally  sacred  principles 
of  hereditary  succession — and  when  we  have,  at 
last,  two  contradictory  actions  of  the  same  ul- 
timate umpire,  we  find  all  technical  grounds  of 
coming  to  a  conclusion  gone.  We  then,  aban- 
doning these,  seek  for  some  higher  and  more 
universal  principles— essential  in  the  nature  of 
things,  and  thus  independent  of  the  will  and  ac- 
tion of  man — to  see  if  they  will  throw  any  light 
on  the  subject.  But  we  soon  find  oursel\«s  a? 
much  perplexed  and  confounded  in  this  inquiry 
as  we  were  before.  We  ask,  in  beginning  th* 
investigation,  What  is  the  ground  and  nature 
of  the  right  by  which  any  king  or  queen  suo- 
oeeds  to  the  power  possessed  by  his  ancestors  f 
And  we  give  up  in  despair,  not  being  able  to 
answer  even  this  first  preliminary  inquiry. 
Mankind  have  not,  in  their  estimate  of  Bill- 


192  QUEEN  ELIZABETH  1586 

CUMbeth'i  duplicity.  Her  Mhemir^  tr  entrap  Mary 

abeth's  character,  condemned  so  decidedly  the 
substantial  acts  which  she  performed,  as  the 
duplicity,  the  false-heartedness,  and  the  false 
pretensions  which  she  manifested  in  perform- 
ing them.  Had  she  said  frankly  and  openly  to 
Mary  before  the  world,  If  these  schemes  for  rev- 
olntionizing  England  and  placing  yourself  upor 
the  throne  continue,  your  life  must  be  forfeited  j 
my  own  safety  and  the  safety  of  the  realm  ab 
solutely  demand  it;  and  then  had  fairly,  and 
openly,  and  honestly  executed  her  threat,  man- 
kind would  have  been  silent  on  the  subject,  if 
they  had  not  been  satisfied.  But  if  she  had 
really  acted  thus,  she  would  not  have  been 
Elizabeth.  She,  in  fact,  pursued  a  very  differ- 
ent  course.  She  maneuvered,  schemed,  and 
planned ;  she  pretended  to  be  full  of  the  warm- 
est affection  for  her  cousin ;  she  contrived  plot 
after  plot,  and  scheme  after  scheme,  to  ensnare 
her ;  and  when,  at  last,  the  execution  took  place, 
in  obedience  to  her  own  formal  and  written  au- 
thority, she  pretended  to  great  astonishment  and 
i«ge.  She  never  meant  that  the  sentence  should 
take  effect.  She  filled  England,  France,  and 
Scotland  with  the  loud  expressions  of  her  re- 
gret, and  she  punished  the  agents  who  had  ex- 
ranted  her  will.  This  management  was 


1560-80-]    PJZBSONAL    CHABACTEB.       193 

lf»ld«n  ladle*.  Their  benevolent  spirit. 

vent  the  friends  of  Mary  from  forming  plans  of 
revenge. 

This  was  her  character  in  all  things.  She 
was  famous  for  her  false  pretensions  and  double 
dealings,  and  jet,  with  all  her  talents  and  sa- 
gacity, the  disguise  she  assumed  was  sometimes 
so  thin  and  transparent  that  her  assuming  it 
was  simply  ridiculous. 

Maiden  ladies,  who  spend  their  lives,  in  some 
respects,  alone,  often  become  deeply  imbued 
with  a  kind  and  benevolent  spirit,  which  seeks 
its  gratification  in  relieving  the  pains  and  pro- 
moting tho  happiness  of  all  around  them.  Con- 
scious that  the  circumstances  which  have  caused 
them  to  lead  a  single  life  would  secure  for  them 
the  sincere  sympathy  and  the  increased  esteem 
of  all  who  know  them,  if  delicacy  and  proprie- 
ty allowed  them  to  be  expressed,  they  feel  a 
strong  degree  of  self-respect,  they  live  happily, 
and  are  a  continual  means  of  comfort  and  joy 
to  all  around  them.  This  was  not  so,  however, 
with  Elizabeth.  She  was  jealous,  petulant,  ir- 
ritable. She  envied  others  the  love  and  the  do- 
mestic  enjoyments  which  ambition  forbade  her 
to  share,  and  she  seemed  to  take  great  pleasure 
in  thwarting  and  interfering  with  the  plans  of 

others  for  securing  this  happin«s*' 
26—13 


194  quEEN  ELIZABETH.      (1560-8Q 


EUaabetb'i  MlflihneM  and  jealousy  The  maid*  of  honor. 

One  remarkable  instance  of  this  kind  occur- 
red.  It  seems  she  was  sometimes  accustomed 
to  ask  the  young  ladies  of  the  court  —  her  maid* 
of  honor  —  if  they  ever  thought  about  being  mar- 
ried, and  they,  being  cunning  enough  to  know 
what  sort  of  an  answer  would  please  the  queen 
always  promptly  denied  that  they  did  so.  Oh 
no  !  they  never  thought  about  being  married  at 
all.  There  was  one  young  lady,  however,  art- 
less and  sincere,  who,  when  questioned  in  thin 
way,  answered,  in  her  simplicity,  that  she  often 
thought  of  it,  and  that  she  should  like  to  bo 
married  very  much,  if  her  father  would  only 
consent  to  her  union  with  a  certain  gentleman 
whom  she  loved.  "Ah!"  said  Elizabeth;  "well, 
I  will  speak  to  your  father  about  it,  and  see 
what  I  can  do."  Not  long  after  this  the  father 
of  the  young  lady  came  to  court,  and  the  queen 
proposed  the  subject  to  him.  The  father  said 
that  he  had  not  been  aware  that  his  daughter 
had  formed  such  an  attachment,  but  that  he 
should  certainly  give  his  consent,  without  any 
hesitation,  to  any  arrangement  of  that  kind 
which  the  queen  desired  and  advised.  "  That 
JB  all,  then,"  said  the  queen  ;  "  I  will  do  the  rest." 
So  she  called  the  young  lady  into  her  presence, 
and  told  her  that  her  father  bad  given  his  fre« 


1560-80.]  PERSONAL  CHARACTER.        195 

(•stance  of  Elizabeth's  cruelty.  Her  irritable  temper. 

consent.  The  maiden's  heart  bounded  with  joy, 
and  she  began  to  express  her  happiness  and  her 
gratitude  to  the  queen,  promising  to  do  every 
thing  in  her  power  to  please  her,  when  Eliza- 
beth interrupted  her,  saying,  "Yes,  you  will 
act  so  as  to  please  me,  I  have  no  doubt,  but  you 
are  not  going  to  be  a  fool  and  get  married. 
Your  father  has  given  his  consent  to  me,  aid 
not  to  you,  and  you  may  rely  upon  it  you  will 
never  get  it  out  of  my  possession.  You  were 
pretty  bold  to  acknowledge  your  foolishness  to 
me  so  readily." 

Elizabeth  was  very  irritable,  and  could  never 
bear  any  contradiction.  In  the  case  even  of 
Leicester,  who  had  such  an  unbounded  influ, 
ence  over  her,  if  he  presumed  a  little  too  much 
he  would  meet  sometimes  a  very  severe  rebuff 
such  as  nobody  but  a  courtier  would  endure; 
but  courtiers,  haughty  and  arrogant  as  they  are 
in  their  bearing  toward  inferiors,  are  generally 
(awning  sycophants  toward  those  above  them, 
and  they  will  submit  to  any  thing  imaginable 
from  a  queen. 

It  was  the  custom  in  Elizabeth's  days,  as  it 
is  now  among  the  great  in  European  countries, 
to  have  a  series  or  suite  of  rooms,  one  beyond 
the  other,  the  inner  one  being  the  presence 


196  QUEEN   ELIZABETH.      [1560-80 

Leicester*  •  friend  and  the  gentleman  of  the  blaek  rod. 

chamber,  and  the  others  being  occupied  by  at- 
tendants and  servants  of  various  grades,  to  reg- 
ulate and  control  the  admission  of  company. 
Some  of  these  officers  were  styled  gentlemen  of 
the  black  rod,  that  name  being  derived  from  • 
peculiar  badge  of  authority  which  they  were 
accustomed  to  carry.  It  happened,  one  day, 
that  a  certain  gay  captain,  a  follower  of  Leices- 
ter's, and  a  sort  of  favorite  of  his,  was  stopped 
in  the  antechamber  by  one  of  the  gentlemen  of 
the  black  rod,  named  Bowyer,  the  queen  hav- 
ing ordered  him  to  be  more  careful  and  partic- 
ular in  respect  to  the  admission  of  company. 
The  captain,  who  was  proud  of  the  favor  which 
he  enjoyed  with  Leicester,  resented  this  affront, 
and  threatened  the  officer,  and  he  was  engaged 
in  an  altercation  with  him  on  the  subject  when 
Leicester  came  in.  Leicester  took  his  favor- 
ite's part,  and  told  the  gentleman  usher  that  he 
was  a  knave,  and  that  he  would  have  him  turn- 
ed out  of  office.  Leicester  was  accustomed  te 
feel  so  much  confidence  in  his  power  over  Eliz- 
abeth, that  his  manner  toward  all  beneath  him 
had  become  exceedingly  haughty  and  overbear- 
ing. He  supposed,  probably,  that  the  officer 
would  humble  himself  at  once  before  his  re- 
bukeft 


1560-80.]  PKRSONAL  CHARACTER.        197 

ntmabath  in  •  rage.  Her  InTectirei  «g»lnst  I-eieerte* 

The  officer,  however,  instead  of  this,  steppeo 
directly  in  before  Leicester,  who  was  then  go- 
ing in  himself  to  the  presence  of  the  queen ; 
kneeled  before  her  majesty,  related  the  facts  of 
the  case,  and  humbly  asked  what  it  was  her 
pleasure  that  he  should  do.  He  had  obeyed  her 
majesty's  orders,  he  said,  and  had  been  called 
imperiously  to  account  for  it,  and  threatened 
violently  by  Leicester,  and  he  wished  now  to 
know  whether  Leicester  was  king  or  her  maj- 
esty queen.  Elizabeth  was  very  much  dis- 
pleased with  the  conduct  of  her  favorite.  She 
turned  to  him,  and,  beginning  with  a  sort  of 
oath  which  she  was  accustomed  to  use  when 
irritated  and  angry,  she  addressed  him  in  in- 
vectives and  reproaches  the  most  severe.  She 
gave  him,  in  a  word,  what  would  be  called  a 
scolding,  were  it  not  that  scolding  is  a  term  not 
sufficiently  dignified  for  history,  even  for  such 
humble  history  as  this.  She  told  him  that  she 
had  indeed  shown  him  favor,  but  her  favo* 
was  not  so  fixed  and  settled  upon  him  that  no* 
body  else  was  to  have  any  share,  and  that  if  he 
imagined  that  he  could  lord  it  over  her  hous*- 
hold,  she  would  contrive  a  way  very  soon  to 
convince  him  of  his  mistake.  There  was  one 
mifttress  to  rule  there,  she  said,  hu*  no  maste> 


198  QTKKN  ELIZABETH.    [1560-80 

L»l««ter'i  chagrin.  Elizabeth's  powers  of  «»tlre 

She  then  dismissed  Bowyer,  telling  Leicester 
that,  if  any  evil  happened  to  him,  she  should 
hold  him,  that  is,  Leicester,  to  a  strict  account 
for  it,  as  she  should  be  convinced  it  would  have 
oome  through  his  means. 

Leicester  was  exceedingly  chagrined  at  thi* 
result  of  the  difficulty.  Of  course  he  dared  not 
defend  himself  or  reply.  All  the  other  courtiers 
enjoyed  his  confusion  very  highly,  and  one  of 
them,  in  giving  an  account  of  the  affair,  said, 
in  conclusion,  that  "  the  queen's  words  so  quell, 
ed  him,  that,  for  some  time  after,  his  feigned 
humility  was  one  of  his  best  virtues." 

Queen  Elizabeth  very  evidently  possessed 
that  peculiar  combination  of  quickness  of  Intel- 
lect  and  readiness  of  tongue  which  enables 
those  who  possess  it  to  say  very  sharp  and  bit- 
ing things,  when  vexed  or  out  of  humor.  It  is 
a  brilliant  talent,  though  it  always  makes  those 
who  possess  it  hated  and  feared.  Elizabeth 
was  often  wantonly  cruel  in  the  exercise  of  this 
satirical  power,  considering  very  little — as  if 
usually  the  case  with  such  persons — the  justice 
of  her  invectives,  but  obeying  blindly  the  im- 
pulses of  the  ill  nature  which  prompted  her  t« 
utter  them.  We  have  already  said  that  she 
seemed  always  to  have  a  special  feeling  of  il] 


1560--80.J  PERSONAL  CHARACTER.        199 

KBsabeth's  rlewi  of  mwrlagB.  Her  intmltlng  eondunt 

will  against  marriage  and  every  thing  that  per- 
tained to  it,  and  she  had,  particularly,  a  theory 
Shat  the  bishops  and  the  clergy  ought  not  to  be 
married.  She  could  not  absolutely  prohibit 
their  marrying,  but  she  did  issue  an  injunction 
forbidding  any  of  the  heads  of  the  colleges  or 
cathedrals  to  take  their  wives  into  the  same,  or 
any  of  their  precincts.  At  one  time,  in  one  of 
her  royal  progresses  through  the  country,  she 
was  received,  and  very  magnificently  and  hos- 
pitably entertained,  by  the  Archbishop  of  Can- 
terbury, at  his  palace.  The  archbishop's  wife 
exerted  herself  very  particularly  to  please  the 
queen  and  to  do  her  honor.  Elizabeth  evinced 
her  gratitude  by  turning  to  her,  as  she  was 
about  to  take  her  leave,  and  saying  that  she 
could  not  call  her  the  archbishop's  wife,  and  did 
not  like  to  call  her  his  mistress,  and  so  she  did 
not  know  what  to  call  her;  but  that,  at  all 
events,  she  was  very  much  obliged  to  her  for 
her  hospitality. 

Elizabeth's  highest  officers  of  state  were  con- 
Anually  exposed  to  her  sharp  and  sudden  re* 
preaches,  and  they  often  incurred  them  by  sin- 
cere and  honest  efforts  to  gratify  and  serve  her. 
She  had  made  an  arrangement,  one  day,  to  go 
into  the  city  of  London  to  St  Paul's  Church,  ta 


800  QUEEN  ELIZABETH.    [1560-80. 

The  Dean  of  Chrtrt  Church  and  the  Prayer  Book. 

hear  the  Dean  of  Christ  Churoh,  a  distinguish- 
ed clergyman,  preach.  The  dean  procured  a 
copy  of  the  Prayer  Book,  and  had  it  splendidly 
bound,  with  a  great  number  of  beautiful  and 
costly  prints  interleaved  in  it.  These  prints 
were  all  of  a  religious  character,  being  repre- 
sentations of  sacred  history,  or  of  scenes  in  the 
lives  of  the  saints.  The  volume,  thus  prepared, 
was  very  beautiful,  and  it  was  placed,  when  the 
Sabbath  morning  arrived,  upon  the  queen's 
cushion  at  the  church,  ready  for  her  use.  The 
queen  entered  in  great  state,  and  took  her  seat 
in  the  midst  of  all  the  parade  and  ceremony 
customary  on  such  occasions  As  soon,  how- 
ever, as  she  opened  the  book  and  saw  the  pic- 
tures, she  frowned,  and  seemed  to  be  much  dis- 
pleased. She  shut  the  book  and  put  it  away, 
and  called  for  her  own ;  and,  after  the  service, 
she  sent  for  the  dean,  and  asked  him  who  brought 
that  book  there.  He  replied,  in  a  very  humble 
and  submissive  manner,  that  he  had  procured 
it  himself,  having  intended  it  as  a  present  for 
hsr  majesty.  This  only  produced  fresh  expres- 
sions of  displeasure.  She  proceeded  to  rebuke 
him  severely  for  countenancing  such  a  popish 
practice  as  the  introduction  of  pictures  in  the 
ehurohes  All  this  time  Elizabeth  had  herself 


1560-80.]  PERSONAL  CHARACTER.        201 

BttMbetii'i  food  qMllttM.  Her  oov*fl« 

A  crucifix  in  her  own  private  chapel,  and  the 
dean  himself,  on  the  other  hand,  was  a  firm  and 
consistent  Protestant,  entirely  opposed  to  the 
Catholic  system  of  images  and  pictures,  as  Eli* 
abeth  very  well  knew. 

This  sort  of  roughness  was  a  somewhat  mas- 
culine trait  of  character  for  a  lady,  it  must  be 
acknowledged,  and  not  a  very  agreeable  one, 
even  in  man ;  but  with  some  of  the  bad  qual- 
ities of  the  other  sex,  Elizabeth  possessed,  also, 
some  that  were  good.  She  was  courageous,  and 
she  evinced  her  courage  sometimes  in  a  very 
noble  manner.  At  one  time,  when  political  ex- 
citement ran  very  high,  her  friends  thought  that 
there  was  serious  danger  in  her  appearing  open- 
ly in  public,  and  they  urged  her  not  to  do  it, 
but  to  confine  herself  within  her  palaces  for  a 
time,  until  the  excitement  should  pass  away. 
But  no;  the  representations  made  to  her  pro 
duoed  no  effect.  She  said  she  would  continue 
to  go  out  just  as  freely  as  ever.  She  did  not 
think  that  there  was  really  any  danger;  and 
beside*,  if  there  was,  she  did  not  care ;  she  would 
rather  take  her  chance  of  being  killed  than  to 
be  kept  shut  up  like  a  prisoner. 

At  the  time,  too,  when  the  shot  was  fired  at 
fhe  barge  in  which  she  was  going  down  the 


202  QUEEN  ELIZABETH.     [1560-80 

TV>  *ot  U  *»«  b»rf8.  Ellttbeth'i  rutty 

Thames,  many  of  her  ministers  thought  it  was 
aimed  at  her.  They  endeavored  to  convince 
her  of  this,  and  urged  her  not  to  expose  herself 
to  such  dangers.  She  replied  that  she  did  not 
believe  that  the  shot  was  aimed  at  her ;  and 
that,  in  fact,  she  would  not  believe  any  thing  of 
her  subjects  which  a  father  would  not  be  willing 
to  believe  of  his  own  children.  So  she  went  on 
sailing  in  her  barge  just  as  before. 

Elizabeth  was  very  vain  of  her  beauty, 
though,  unfortunately,  she  had  very  little  beau- 
ty to  be  vain  of.  Nothing  pleased  her  so  much 
as  compliments.  She  sometimes  almost  exact- 
ed them.  At  one  time,  when  a  distinguished 
ambassador  from  Mary  Queen  of  Scots  was  at 
her  court,  she  insisted  on  his  telling  her  wheth- 
er she  or  Mary  was  the  most  beautiful.  When 
we  consider  that  Elizabeth  was  at  this  time  over 
thirty  years  of  age,  and  Mary  only  twenty-two, 
and  that  the  fame  of  Mary's  loveliness  had  filled 
the  world,  it  must  be  admitted  that  this  ques- 
tion indicated  a  considerable  degree  of  self-com- 
placency. The  embassador  had  the  prudence 
to  attempt  to  evade  the  inquiry.  He  said  at 
first  that  they  were  both  beautiful  enough.  But 
Elizabeth  wanted  to  know,  she  said,  which  was 
most  beautiful  The  embassador  then  said  tha* 


POBTRAIT   OF    QtJKEN   ELIZABETH. 


1560-80.]  PERSONAL  CHARACTER.        205 

Bttcabetii  and  the  emouMdor.  The  pictures. 

his  queen  was  the  most  beautiful  queen  in  Soot- 
land  and  Elizabeth  in  England.  Elizabeth  was 
not  satisfied  with  this,  but  insisted  on  a  definite 
mnswer  to  her  question;  and  the  embassador 
•aid  at  last  that  Elizabeth  had  the  fairest  com- 
plexion,  thongh  Mary  was  considered  a  very 
lovely  woman.  Elizabeth  then  wanted  to  know 
which  was  the  tallest  of  the  two.  The  embas- 
eador  said  that  Mary  was.  "  Then,"  said  Eliz- 
abeth, "  she  is  too  tall,  for  I  am  just  of  the  right 
height  myself." 

At  one  time  during  Elizabeth's  reign,  the 
people  took  a  fancy  to  engrave  and  print  por- 
traits of  her,  which,  being  perhaps  tolerably 
faithful  to  the  original,  were  not  very  alluring. 
The  queen  was  much  vexed  at  the  circulation 
of  these  prints,  and  finally  she  caused  a  grave 
and  formal  proclamation  to  be  issued  against 
them.  In  this  proclamation  it  was  stated  that 
!t  was  the  intention  of  the  queen,  at  some  fu- 
ture time,  to  have  a  proper  artist  employed  to 
execute  a  correct  and  true  portrait  of  herself, 
which  should  then  be  published;  and,  in  the 
mean  time,  all  persons  were  forbidden  tc  make 
or  sell  any  representations  of  her  whatever. 

Elizabeth  was  extremely  fond  of  pomp  and 
parade.  The  magnificence  and  splendor  of  the 


206  QUEEN    ELIZABETH.    [1560-80. 

EHiabeth  •  fondness  for  pomp  and  ptraito. 

celebrations  and  festivities  which  characterized 
her  reign  have  scarcely  ever  been  surpassed  in 
any  country  or  in  any  age.  She  once  went  to 
attend  Church,  on  a  particular  occasion,  ac- 
companied by  a  thousand  men  in  full  armot 
of  steel,  and  ten  pieces  of  cannon,  with  drums 
and  trumpets  sounding.  She  received  her  for- 
eign embassadors  with  military  spectacles  and 
shows,  and  with  banquets  and  parties  of  pleas- 
ure, which  for  many  days  kept  all  London  in 
a  fever  of  excitement.  Sometimes  she  made 
excursions  on  the  river,  with  whole  fleets  of 
boats  and  barges  in  her  train ;  the  shores,  on 
such  occasions,  swarming  with  spectators,  and 
waving  with  flags  and  banners.  Sometimes 
she  would  make  grand  progresses  through  her 
dominions,  followed  by  an  army  of  attendants 
— lords  and  ladies  dressed  and  mounted  in  the 
most  costly  manner — and  putting  the  noblea 
whose  seats  she  visited  to  a  vast  expense  in  en- 
tertaining such  a  crowd  of  visitors.  Being  very 
saving  of  her  own  means,  she  generally  con- 
trived to  bring  the  expense  of  this  magnificence 
upon  others.  The  honor  was  a  sufficient  equiv- 
alent Or,  if  it  was  not,  nobody  dared  to  com- 
plain. 

To  sum  up  all,  Elizabeth  was  very  great, 


1560-80.]  PERSONAL   CHARACTER.        207 


Summary  of  Elizabeth'*  character. 


and  she  was,  at  the  same  time,  very  little.  Lit- 
tleness and  greatness  mingled  in  her  character 
in  a  manner  which  has  scarcely  ever  been  par- 
alleled, except  by  the  equally  singular  mixture 
of  admiration  and  contempt  frith  which  man- 
kind have  always  regarded  her 


208  QUEEN  ELIZABETH.  [1558 

i  betwoM  Catholic*  and  FrotecUnU.          PUttp'i  cruelly 


CHAPTER   X. 
THE  INVINCIBLE  ARMADA 

nriHHlTY  years  of  Queen  Elizabeth's  reign 
-*•  passed  away.  During  all  this  time  the 
murderous  contests  between  the  Catholic  gov- 
ernments of  France  and  Spain  and  their  Prot- 
estant subjects  went  on  with  terrible  energy. 
Philip  of  Spain  was  the  great  leader  and  head 
of  the  Catholic  powers,  and  he  prosecuted  his 
work  of  exterminating  heresy  with  the  stern- 
est and  most  merciless  determination.  Obsti- 
nate and  protracted  wars,  cruel  tortures,  and 
imprisonments  and  executions  without  number, 
marked  his  reign. 

Notwithstanding  all  this,  however,  strange 
as  it  may  seem,  the  country  increased  in  pop- 
ulation, wealth,  and  prosperity.  It  is,  after  all, 
but  a  very  small  proportion  of  fifty  millions  »f 
people  which  the  most  cruel  monster  of  a  ty- 
rant can  kill,  even  if  he  devotes  himself  fully  to 
the  work.  The  natural  deaths  among  the  vast 
population  within  the  reach  of  Philip's  power 
amounted,  probably,  to  two  million*  every  year; 


1585.]     THE  INVINCIBLE  ARMADA.        209 

MWti  of  War.  Hapoleoa  tad  Xnrxe*. 

and  if  he  destroyed  ten  thousand  every  year, 
ft  was  only  adding  one  death  by  violence  to 
two  hundred  produced  by  accidents,  disaster!, 
or  age.  Dreadful  as  are  the  atrocities  of  per- 
secution and  war,  and  vast  and  incalculable  at 
are  the  encroachments  on  human  happiness 
which  they  produce,  we  are  often  led  to  over- 
rate their  relative  importance,  compared  with 
the  aggregate  value  of  the  interests  and  pur- 
suits which  are  left  unharmed  by  them,  by  not 
sufficiently  appreciating  the  enormous  extent 
and  magnitude  of  these  interests  and  pursuit* 
in  such  communities  as  England,  Franca,  and 
Spain. 

Sometimes,  it  is  true,  the  operations  of  mil 
itary  heroes  have  been  on  such  a  prodigious 
scale  as  to  make  very  serious  inroads  on  the 
population  of  the  greatest  states.     Napoleon 
for  instance,  on  one  occasion  took  five  hundred 
thousand  men  out  of  France  for  his  expedition 
to  Russia.    The  campaign  destroyed  nearly  all 
of  them.    It  was  only  a  very  insignificant  frac- 
tion of  the  vast  army  that  ever  returned.     By 
this  transaction,  Napoleon  thus  just  about  doub 
led  the  annual  mortality  in  France  at  a  single 
blow.     Xerxes  enjoys  the  glory  of  having  de- 
Hroy«d  about  a  million  of  men — and  these,  not 

26—14 


210  QUEEN  ELIZABETH.          [J5»5 

March  of  improrement  Spanish  armada* 

enemies,  but  countrymen,  followers,  and  friend* 
— in  the  same  way,  on  a  single  expedition. 
Such  vast  results,  however,  were  not  attained 
in  the  conflicts  which  marked  the  reigns  of 
Elizabeth  and  Philip  of  Spain.  Notwithstand- 
ing the  long-protracted  international  wars,  and 
dreadful  civil  commotions  of  the  period,  the 
world  went  on  increasing  in  wealth  and  popu- 
lation, and  all  the  arts  and  improvements  of 
life  made  very  rapid  progress.  America  had 
been  discovered,  and  the  way  to  the  East  In- 
dies had  been  opened  to  European  ships,  and 
the  Spaniards,  the  Portuguese,  the  Dutch,  the 
English,  and  the  French,  had  fleets  of  merchant 
vessels  and  ships  of  war  in  every  sea.  The . 
Spaniards,  particularly,  had  acquired  great  pos- 
sessions in  America,  which  contained  very  rich 
mines  of  gold  and  silver,  and  there  was  a  par- 
ticular kind  of  vessels  called  galleons,  which 
went  regularly  once  a  year,  under  a  strong  con- 
voy, to  bring  home  the  treasure.  They  used  ta 
call  these  fleets  armada,  which  is  the  Spanish 
word  denoting  an  armed  squadron.  Nation?  at 
war  with  Spain  always  made  great  efforts  to 
intercept  and  seize  these  ships  on  their  home- 
ward voyages,  when,  being  laden  with  gold  and 
silver,  they  became  prizes  of  the  highest  value 


1585.]    THE  IMTINOIBLE  ARMADA        211 

tte  Low  Countries  Their  situation  and  eoadtUc* 

Things  were  in  this  state  about  the  year 
1585,  when  Queen  Elizabeth  received  a  propo 
Jtion  from  the  Continent  of  Europe  which  threw 
her  into  great  perplexity.  Among  the  other 
dominions  of  Philip  of  Spain,  there  were  certain 
rtates  situated  in  the  broad  tract  of  low,  level 
land  which  lies  northeast  of  France,  and  which 
constitutes,  at  the  present  day,  the  countries  of 
Holland  and  Belgium.  This  territory  was  then 
divided  into  several  provinces,  which  were  call- 
ed, usually,  the  Low  Countries,  on  account  of 
the  low  and  level  situation  of  the  land.  In  fact, 
there  are  vast  tracts  of  land  bordering  the  shore, 
which  lie  so  low  that  dikes  have  to  be  built  to 
keep  out  the  sea.  In  these  oases,  there  are 
lines  of  windmills,  of  great  size  and  power,  all 
along  the  coast,  whose  vast  wings  are  always 
slowly  revolving,  to  pump  out  the  water  which 
percolates  through  the  dikes,  or  which  flows 
from  the  water-courses  after  showers  of  rain. 

The  Low  Countries  were  very  unwilling  to 
submit  to  the  tyrannical  government  which 
Philip  exercised  over  them.  The  inhabitants 
were  generally  Protestants,  and  Philip  perse- 
cuted them  era  ally.  They  were,  in  consequence 
of  this,  continually  rebelling  against  his  author- 
ity, and  Elizabeth,  secretly  akl»>d  them  in  the*** 


212  QUEEN  ELIZABETH.          [1585 


tftm  tW  Low  CoMlrtM. 


struggles,  though  she  would  not  openly  assist 
them,  as  she  did  not  wish  to  provoke  Philip  to 
open  war.  She  wished  them  success,  however 
for  she  knew  very  well  that  if  Philip  oould  onoe 
subdue  his  Protestant  subjects  at  home,  ha 
would  immediately  turn  his  attention  to  En- 
gland, and  perhaps  undertake  to  depose  Eliza- 
beth, and  place  some  Catholic  prince  or  prin- 
cess upon  the  throne  in  her  stead. 

Things  were  in  this  state  in  1585,  when  the 
confederate  provinces  of  the  Low  Countries 
sent  an  embassage  to  Elizabeth,  offering  her 
the  government  of  the  country  as  sovereign 
queen,  if  she  would  openly  espouse  their  cause 
and  protect  them  from  Philip's  power.  This 
proposition  called  for  very  serious  and  anxious 
consideration.  Elizabeth  felt  very  desirous  to 
make  this  addition  to  her  dominions  on  its  own 
account,  and  besides,  she  saw  at  onoe  that  such 
an  acquisition  would  give  her  a  great  advant- 
age  in  her  future  contests  with  Philip,  if  actual 
war  must  come.  But  then,  on  the  otner  hand, 
by  accepting  the  proposition,  war  must  neoessa  • 
rily  be  brought  on  at  onoe.  Philip  would,  in 
fact,  consider  her  espousing  the  cause  of  hi*  re- 
bellious subjects  as  an  actua  declaration  of  wai 
«n  her  part,  so  that  making  such  a  league  with 


1585]    THE  INVINCIBLE  ARMADA.        213 

Ellaabeth  •  decision.  Leicettcr  and  Dnh» 

these  countries  would  plunge  her  at  once  into 
hostilities  with  the  greatest  and  most  extended 
i^ower  on  the  globe.  Elizabeth  was  very  un- 
willing thus  to  precipitate  the  contest;  bit, 
then,  on  the  other  hand,  she  wished  very  much 
to  avoid  the  danger  that  threatened,  of  Philip's 
first  subduing  his  own  dominions,  and  then  ad- 
vancing to  the  invasion  of  England  with  his  mi- 
divided  strength.  She  finally  concluded  not  to 
accept  the  sovereignty  of  the  countries,  but  to 
make  a  league,  offensive  and  defensive,  with 
the  governments,  and  to  send  out  a  fleet  and  am 
army  to  aid  them.  This,  as  she  had  expected, 
brought  on  a  general  war. 

The  queen  commissioned  Leicester  to  take 
command  of  the  forces  which  were  to  proceed 
to  Holland  and  the  Netherlands ;  she  also  equip- 
ped a  fleet,  and  placed  it  under  the  command 
of  Sir  Francis  Drake,  a  very  celebrated  naval 
captain,  to  proceed  across  the  Atlantic  and  at- 
tack the  Spanish  possessions  on  the  American 
•bores.  Leicester  was  extremely  elated  with 
bis  appointment,  and  set  off  on  his  expedition 
with  great  pomp  and  parade.  He  had  not  gen- 
erally, during  his  life,  held  stations  of  any  great 
trust  or  responsibility.  The  queen  had  confer- 
red upon  him  high  titles  and  vast  estates,  but 


214  Q.UEEN   ELIZABETH. 

Ixaocrter  tete  oat  for  the  Low  Coantrte*. 

she  had  confided  all  real  power  to  far  more  oa 
pable  and  trustworthy  hands.  She  thought 
however,  perhaps,  that  Leicester  would  answer 
for  her  allies ;  so  she  gave  him  his  commission 
and  sent  him  forth,  charging  him,  with  many 
injunctions,  as  he  went  away,  to  be  discreet 
and  faithful,  and  to  do  nothing  which  should 
compromise,  in  any  way,  her  interests  or  honor. 

It  will,  perhaps,  he  recollected  that  Leicester's 
wife  had  been,  before  her  marriage  with  him, 
the  wife  of  a  nobleman  named  the  Earl  of  Es- 
sex. She  had  a  son,  who,  at  his  father's  death, 
succeeded  to  the  title.  This  young  Essex  ao- 
oompanied  Leicester  on  this  occasion.  His  sub- 
sequent adventures,  which  were  romantic  and 
extraordinary,  will  be  narrated  in  the  next 
chapter. 

The  people  of  the  Netherlands,  being  extreme- 
ly desirous  to  please  Elizabeth,  their  new  ally, 
thought  that  they  could  not  honor  the  great 
general  she  had  sent  them  too  highly.  The; 
received  him  with  most  magnificent  military 
parades,  and  passed  a  vote  in  their  assembly  in- 
vesting him  with  absolute  authority  as  head  of 
the  government,  thus  putting  him,  in  fact,  in 
the  very  position  which  Elizabeth  had  herself 
ieoUned  receiving.  Leicester  was  extremely 


1585.J    THE  INVICIBLB  ARMADA.         215 

LeicaMw'*  ektiM.  EUaabetfa'i  dlipleiurero. 

pleased  and  elated  with  these  honors.  He  was 
king  all  but  in  name.  He  provided  himself 
with  a  noble  life-guard,  in  imitation  of  royalty, 
and  assumed  all  the  state  and  airs  of  a  monarch. 
Things  went  on  so  very  prosperously  with  him 
for  a  short  time,  until  he  was  one  day  thunder- 
struck by  the  appearance  at  his  palace  of  a  no- 
bleman from  the  queen's  court,  named  Hene- 
age,  who  brought  him  a  letter  from  Elizabeth 
which  was  in  substance  as  follows  : 

"  How  foolishly,  and  with  what  contempt  of 
my  authority,  I  think  you  have  acted,  the  mea 
aenger  I  now  send  to  you  will  explain.  I  little 
imagined  that  a  man  whom  I  had  raised  from 
the  dust,  and  treated  with  so  much  favor,  would 
have  forgotten  all  his  obligations,  and  acted  in 
moh  a  manner.  I  command  you  now  to  put 
yourself  entirely  under  the  direction  of  this  mes- 
senger, to  do  in  all  things  precisely  as  he  re- 
quires, upon  pain  of  further  periLw 


Leicester  humbled  himself  immediately 
der  this  rebuke,  sent  home  most  ample  apolo- 
gies and  prayers  for  forgiveness,  and,  after  a 
time,  gradually  recovered  the  favor  of  the  queen. 
He  soon,  however,  became  very  unpopular  in 


QUEEN   ELIZABETH.  J1377 

ttnkrt  MMM* HU  feed*  of  crafty 

the  Netherlands.  Grievous  complaints  were 
made  against  him,  and  he  was  at  length  recalled. 

Drake  was  mora  successful.  He  was  a  bold, 
•ndaunted,  and  energetic  seaman,  but  unprin- 
cipled and  merciless.  He  manned  and  equipped 
his  fleet,  and  set  sail  toward  the  Spanish  pos- 
sessions in  America.  He  attacked  the  colonies, 
•acked  the  towns,  plundered  the  inhabitants, 
intercepted  the  ships,  and  searched  them  for  sil- 
Yer  and  gold.  In  a  word,  he  did  exactly  what 
pirates  are  hung  for  doing,  and  execrated  aft- 
erward by  all  mankind.  But,  as  Queen  Eliz- 
abeth gave  him  permission  to  perform  these  ex- 
ploits,  he  has  always  been  applauded  by  man- 
kind as  a  hero.  We  would  not  be  understood 
as  denying  that  there  is  any  difference  between 
burning  and  plundering  innocent  towns  and 
robbing  ships,  whether  there  is  or  is  not  a  gov- 
ernmental permission  to  commit  these  crimes. 
There  certainly  is  a  difference.  It  only  seem* 
to  us  surprising  that  there  should  be  so  great  a 
difference  as  is  made  by  the  general  estimation 
of  mankind. 

Drake,  in  fact,  had  acquired  a  great  and  hon- 
orable celebrity  for  such  deeds  before  this  time, 
by  a  similar  expedition,  several  years  before,  in 
which  he  had  been  driven  to  make  the  oiroum- 


1578. j     THE  INVINCIBLE  ARMADA. 

Drake's  expedition  tai  1577.  Execution  of  D<w«hty 

navigation  of  the  globe.  England  and  Spain 
were  then  nominally  at  peace,  and  the  expedi- 
tion was  really  in  pursuit  of  prizes  and  plunder. 
Drake  took  five  vessels  with  him  on  this  hia 
first  expedition,  but  they  were  all  very  small. 
The  largest  was  only  a  vessel  of  one  hundred 
tons,  while  the  ships  which  are  now  built  are 
often  of  three  thousand.  With  this  little  fleet 
Drake  set  sail  boldly,  and  crossed  the  Atlantic, 
being  fifty-five  days  out  of  sight  of  land.  He 
arrived  at  last  on  the  coast  of  South  America, 
and  then  turned  his  course  southward,  toward 
the  Straits  of  Magellan.  Two  of  his  vessels, 
he  found,  were  so  small  as  to  be  of  very  little 
service ;  so  he  shipped  the  men  on  board  the 
others,  and  turned  the  two  adrift.  When  he 
got  well  into  the  southern  seas,  he  charged  hia 
chief  mate,  whose  name  was  Doughty,  with 
some  offense  against  the  discipline  of  his  little 
fleet,  and  had  him  condemned  to  death.  He 
was  executed  at  the  Straits  of  Magellan — be- 
headed. Before  he  died,  the  unhappy  convict 
had  the  sacrament  administered  to  him,  Drake 
himself  partaking  of  it  with  him.  It  was  said, 
and  believed  at  the  time,  that  the  charge  against 
Doughty  was  only  a  pretense,  and  that  the 
real  cause  of  his  death  was,  that  Leicester  had 


t!8  QJEEN  ELIZABETH.          [1579. 

Btnltt  of  MafelUn.  Drake  plmndan  the  SpanUrd* 

Agreed  with  Drake  to  kill  him  when  far  away, 
on  account  of  his  having  assisted,  with  others, 
in  spreading  the  reports  that  Leicester  had  mur- 
dered the  Earl  of  Essex,  the  former  husband 
of  his  wife. 

The  little  squadron  passed  through  the  Straits 
of  Magellan,  and  then  encountered  a  dreadful 
storm,  which  separated  the  ships,  and  drove 
them  several  hundred  miles  to  the  westward, 
over  the  then  boundless  and  trackless  waters 
of  the  Pacific  Ocean.  Drake  himself  afterward 
recovered  the  shore  with  his  own  ship  alone, 
and  moved  northward.  He  found  Spanish  ships 
and  Spanish  merchants  every  where,  who,  not 
dreaming  of  the  presence  of  an  English  enemy 
in  those  distant  seas,  were  entirely  secure ;  and 
they  fell,  one  after  another,  a  very  easy  prey. 
The  very  extraordinary  story  is  told  of  his  find- 
ing, in  one  place,  a  Spaniard  asleep  upon  the 
shore,  waiting,  perhaps,  for  a  boat,  with  thirty 
bars  of  silver  by  his  side,  of  great  weight  and 
value,  which  Drake  and  his  men  seized  and  car- 
ried off,  without  so  much  as  waking  the  owner. 
In  one  harbor  which  he  entered  he  found  throe 
•hips,  from  which  the  seamen  had  all  gone 
ashore,  leaving  the  vessels  completely  unguard- 
ed,  so  entirely  unconscious  were  they  of  any 


1579.]     THE  INVINCIBLE  ARMADA.       219 

ChMe  of  the  Cacofogo.  Drake  capture*  her. 

danger  near.  Drake  broke  into  the  cabins  of 
these  ships,  and  found  fifty  or  sixty  wedges  of 
pure  silver  there,  of  twenty  ponnds  eaoh.  In 
this  way,  as  he  passed  along  the  coast,  he  col- 
lected an  immense  treasure  in  silver  and  gold, 
both  coin  and  bullion,  without  having  to  strike 
*  blow  for  it.  At  last  he  heard  of  a  very  rich 
ship,  called  the  Cacofogo,  which  had  recently 
sailed  for  Panama,  to  which  place  they  were 
taking  the  treasure,  in  order  that  it  might  be 
transported  across  the  isthmus,  and  so  taken 
home  to  Spain;  for,  before  Drake's  voyage, 
scarcely  a  single  vessel  had  ever  passed  round 
Cape  Horn.  The  ships  which  he  had  plun- 
dered had  been  all  built  upon  the  coast,  by 
Spaniards  who  had  come  across  the  country  at 
the  Isthmus  of  Darien,  and  were  to  be  used 
only  to  transport  the  treasure  northward,  where 
it  could  be  taken  across  to  the  Gulf  of  Mexico 
Drake  gave  chase  to  the  Caoofogo.  At  last 
he  came  near  enough  to  fire  into  her,  and  one 
t/  his  first  shots  out  away  her  foremast  and  dis- 
abled her.  He  soon  captured  the  ship,  and  he 
found  immense  riches  on  board.  Besides  pearls 
and  precious  stones  of  great  value,  there  were 
eighty  pounds  of  goM,  thirteen  chests  of  silver 
coin,  and  silver  enough  in  bars  "to  ballast  a 
•bin" 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH  [15S1 


Drake'i  a«cape  by  going  round  the  world. 

Drake's  vessel  was  now  riohly  laden  with 
treasures,  bat  in  the  mean  time  the  news  of  his 
plunder  ings  had  gone  across  the  Continent,  an* 
iome  Spanish  ships  of  war  had  gone  south  to 
intercept  him  at  the  Straits  of  Magellan  on  his 
return.  In  this  dilemma,  the  adventurous  sail- 
or conceived  of  the  sublime  idea  of  avoiding 
them  by  going  round  the  world  to  get  horn*  . 
He  pushed  boldly  forward,  therefore,  across  the 
Pacific  Ocean  to  the  East  Indies,  thence  through 
the  Indian  Ocean  to  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope, 
and,  alter  three  years  from  the  time  he  left  En- 
gland, he  returned  to  it  safely  again,  his  ship 
loaded  with  the  plundered  silver  and  gold. 

As  soon  as  he  arrived  in  the  Thames,  the 
whole  world  flocked  to  see  the  little  ship  that 
had  performed  all  these  wonders.  The  vessel 
was  drawn  up  alongside  the  land,  and  a  bridge 
made  to  it,  and,  after  the  treasure  was  taken 
out,  it  was  given  up,  for  some  time,  to  banquet- 
ings  and  celebrations  of  every  kind.  The  queen 
took  possession  of  all  the  treasure,  saying  that 
Philip  might  demand  it,  and  she  be  forced  tc 
make  restitution,  for  it  must  be  remembered 
that  all  this  took  place  several  years  before  the 
war.  She,  however,  treated  the  successful  sail- 
or  with  every  mark  of  consideration  and  honor  ; 


1587.]  THE   INVINCIBLE  ARMADA.        221 

Cfcmctar  of  Drake.  Phfflp  donukU  th*  tMMiw 

•he  went  herself  on  board  his  ship,  and  partook 
of  an  entertainment  there,  conferring  the  honor 
of  knighthood,  at  the  same  time,  on  the  admi- 
ral, so  that  "  Sir  Francis  Drake"  was  thence- 
forth hi*  proper  title. 

If  the  facts  already  stated  do  not  give  suffi- 
cient indications  of  the  kind  of  character  which 
in  those  days  made  a  naval  hero,  one  other  cir- 
cumstance may  be  added.  At  one  time  during 
this  voyage,  a  Spaniard,  whose  ship  Drake  had 
spared,  made  him  a  present  of  a  beautiful  ne- 
gro girl.  Drake  kept  her  on  board  his  ship  foi 
a  time,  and  then  sent  her  ashore  on  some  island 
that  he  was  passing,  and  inhumanly  abandoned 
her  there,  to  become  a  mother  among  strangers, 
utterly  friendless  and  alone.  It  must  be  added, 
however,  in  justice  to  the  rude  men  among 
whom  this  wild  buccaneer  lived,  that,  though 
they  praised  all  his  other  deeds  of  violence  and 
wrong,  this  atrocious  cruelty  was  condemned, 
tt  had  the  effect,  even  in  those  days,  of  tarnish- 
ing his  fame. 

Philip  did  claim  the  money,  but  Elizabeth 
found  plenty  of  good  excuses  for  not  paying  it 
•ver  to  him. 

This  celebrated  expedition  occupied  more 
than  three  years.  Going  round  the  world  is  * 


222  <4uEEN  ELIZABETH  1587 

Alarming  new*.  EHa»beth'§  nary 

long  journey.  The  arrival  of  the  ship  in  Lon- 
don took  place  in  1581,  four  years  before  tha 
war  actually  broke  out  between  England  and 
Spain,  which  was  in  1585 ;  and  it  was  in  con- 
sequence of  the  great  celebrity  which  Drake  had 
acquired  in  this  and  similar  excursions,  that 
when  at  last  hostilities  commenced,  he  was  put 
in  command  of  the  naval  preparations.  It  was 
not  long  before  it  was  found  that  his  services 
were  likely  to  be  required  near  home,  for  ru- 
mors began  to  find  their  way  to  England  that 
Philip  was  preparing  a  great  fleet  for  the  actual 
invasion  of  England.  The  news  put  the  whole 
country  into  a  state  of  great  alarm. 

The  reader,  in  order  to  understand  fully  the 
grounds  for  this  alarm,  must  remember  that  in 
those  days  Spain  was  the  mistress  of  the  ocean, 
and  not  England  herself.  Spain  possessed  the 
distant  colonies  and  the  foreign  commerce,  and 
built  and  armed  the  great  ships,  while  England 
had  comparatively  few  ships,  and  those  which 
•he  had  were  small.  To  meet  the  formidable 
preparations  which  the  Spaniards  were  making, 
Elizabeth  equipped  only  four  ships.  To  these,, 
however,  the  merchants  of  London  added  twen 
ty  or  thirty  more,  of  various  sizes,  which  they 
famished  on  condition  of  having  a  share  in  tb» 


1587.]    THE  INVINCIBLE   ARMADA. 

Drake's  expedition  again*  the  Spaniards  Hi*  bold 

plunder  which  they  hoped  would  be  secured. 
The  whole  fleet  was  put  under  Drake's  com- 
mand. 

Robbers  and  murderers,  whether  those  that 
operate  upon  the  sea  or  on  the  land,  are  gener- 
ally courageous,  and  Drake's  former  success 
had  made  him  feel  doubly  confident  and  strong. 
Philip  had  collected  a  considerable  fleet  of  ships 
in  Cadiz,  which  is  a  strong  sea-port  in  the  south- 
eastern part  of  Spain,  on  the  Mediterranean  Sea, 
and  others  were  assembling  in  all  the  ports  and 
bays  along  the  shore,  wherever  they  could  be 
built  or  purchased.  They  were  to  rendezvous 
finally  at  Cadiz.  Drake  pushed  boldly  forward, 
and,  to  the  astonishment  of  the  world,  forced  his 
way  into  the  harbor,  through  a  squadron  of  gal- 
leys stationed  there  to  protect  the  entrance,  and 
burned,  sunk,  and  destroyed  more  than  a  hun- 
dred ships  which  had  been  collected  there.  The 
whole  work  was  done,  and  the  little  English 
fleet  was  off  again,  before  the  Spaniards  could 
recover  from  their  astonishment.  Drake  then 
galled  along  the  coast,  seizing  and  destroying  all 
the  ships  he  could  find.  He  next  pushed  to  sea 
a  little  way,  and  had  the  good  fortune  to  inter- 
cept and  capture  a  richly-laden  ship  of  very 
large  size,  called  a  carrack,  which  was  coming 


824  QUEEN  ELIZABETH.          |158£ 

•••fpermtlon  of  Phfllp.  HU  preparation* 

home  from  the  East  Indies.  He  then  went  back 
to  England  in  triumph.  He  said  he  had  been 
"  singeing  the  whiskers"  of  the  King  of  Spain. 
'  The  booty  was  divided  among  the  London 
merchants,  as  had  been  agreed  upon.  Philip 
was  exasperated  and  enraged  beyond  expression 
at  this  unexpected  destruction  of  armaments 
which  had  cost  him  so  much  time  and  money 
to  prepare.  His  spirit  was  irritated  and  aroused 
by  the  disaster,  not  quelled ;  and  he  immediate- 
ly began  to  renew  his  preparations,  making  them 
now  on  a  still  vaster  scale  than  before.  The 
amount  of  damage  which  Drake  effected  was, 
therefore,  alter  all,  of  no  greater  benefit  to  En- 
gland than  putting  back  the  invasion  for  about 
a  year. 

At  length,  in  the  summer  of  1588,  the  prep- 
arations for  the  sailing  of  the  great  armada, 
which  was  to  dethrone  Elizabeth  and  bring  back 
the  English  nation  again  under  the  dominion  of 
some  papal  prince,  and  put  down,  finaJly,  the 
oause  of  Protestantism  in  Europe,  were  com 
plete.  Elizabeth  herself,  and  the  English  peo- 
ple, in  the  mean  time,  had  not  been  idle.  The 
whole  kingdom  had  been  for  months  filled  with 
enthusiasm  to  prepare  for  meeting  the  foe.  Ar- 
mies were  levied  and  fleets  raised.  Every  mari 


1588.]   THB  INVINCIBLE  ARMADA.        225 

Slixabeth's  preparations.  The  «rmy  and  UBTJ 

time  town  furnished  ships ;  and  rich  noblemen, 
in  many  cases,  built  or  pnrohased  vessels  with 
their  own  funds,  and  sent  them  forward  ready 
for  the  battle,  as  their  contribution  toward  the 
means  of  defense.  A  large  part  of  the  force  thus 
raised  was  stationed  at  Plymouth,  which  is  the 
first  great  sea-port  which  presents  itself  on  the 
English  coast  in  sailing  up  the  Channel.  The 
remainder  of  it  was  stationed  at  the  other  end  of 
the  Channel,  near  the  Straits  of  Dover,  for  it  was 
feared  that,  in  addition  to  the  vast  armament 
which  Philip  was  to  bring  from  Spain,  he  would 
raise  another  fleet  in  the  Netherlands,  which 
would,  of  course,  approach  the  shores  of  England 
from  the  German  Ocean. 

Besides  the  fleets,  a  large  army  was  raised. 
Twenty  thousand  men  were  distributed  along 
the  southern  shores  of  England  in  such  posi- 
tions as  to  be  most  easily  concentrated  at  any 
f  oint  where  the  armada  might  attempt  to  land 
and  about  as  many  more  were  marched  down 
the  Thames,  and  encamped  near  the  mouth  of 
the  river,  to  guard  that  access.  This  encamp- 
ment was  at  a  place  on  the  northern  bank  of 
the  river,  just  above  its  mouth.  Leicester, 
strange  as  it  may  seem,  was  put  in  command  of 
this  army.  The  queen,  however,  herself,  went 
36—15 


226  QUBEK  ELIZABETH. 

Elizabeth  review*  the  troop*. 

to  visit  this  encampment,  and  reviewed  the 
troops  in  person.  She  rode  to  and  fro  on  horse- 
back along  the  lines,  armed  like  a  warrior.  At 
least  she  had  a  corslet  of  polished  steel  over  her 
magnificent  dress,  and  bore  a  general's  trun* 
cheon,  a  richly-ornamented  staff  used  as  a  badge 
of  command.  She  had  a  helmet,  too,  with  a 
white  plume.  This,  howev«-  she  did  not  wear 
A  page  bore  it,  following  her,  while  she  rode,  at- 
tended by  Leicester  and  the  other  generals,  all 
mounted  on  horses  and  splendidly  caparisoned, 
from  rank  to  rank,  animating  the  men  to  the 
highest  enthusiasm  by  her  courageous  bearing, 
her  look  of  confidence,  and  her  smiles. 

She  made  an  address  to  the  soldiers.  She 
said  that  she  had  been  warned  by  some  of  her 
ministers  of  the  danger  of  trusting  herself  to 
the  power  of  such  an  armed  multitude,  for  these 
forces  were  not  regularly  enlisted  troops,  but 
volunteers  from  among  the  citizens,  who  had 
suddenly  left  the  ordinary  avocations  and  pur- 
suits  of  life  to  defend  their  country  in  this  emer- 
gency. She  had,  however,  she  said,  no  such 
apprehensions  of  danger.  She  could  trust  her- 
self without  fear  to  the  courage  and  fidelity  of 
her  subjects,  as  she  had  always,  during  all  her 
-eign,  considered  her  greatest  strength  and  safe- 


1588.]  THE  INVINCIBLE  ARMADA. 

dxabeth  i  energy.  Approach  of  tne  armada, 

guard  as  consisting  in  their  loyalty  and  good 
wilL  For  herself,  she  had  come  to  the  camp, 
ihe  assured  them,  not  for  the  sake  of  empty 
pageantry  and  parade,  but  to  take  her  share 
with  them  in  the  dangers,  and  toils,  and  terrors 
of  the  actual  battle.  If  Philip  should  land,  they 
would  find  their  queen  in  the  hottest  of  the  con- 
flict, fighting  by  their  sides.  "  I  have,"  said  she, 
"  I  know,  only  the  body  of  a  weak  and  feeble 
woman,  but  I  have  the  heart  of  a  king ;  and  I 
am  ready  for  my  God,  my  kingdom,  and  my 
people,  to  have  that  body  laid  down,  even  in  the 
dust.  If  the  battle  comes,  therefore,  1  shall 
myself  be  in  the  midst  and  front  of  it,  to  lire 
or  die  with  you." 

These  were,  thus  far,  but  words,  it  is  true, 
and  how  far  Elizabeth  would  have  vindicated 
their  sincerity,  if  the  entrance  of  the  armada 
into  the  Thames  had  put  her  to  the  test,  we 
can  not  now  know.  Sir  Francis  Drake  saved 
her  from  the  trial.  One  morning  a  small  ves 
•el  came  into  the  harbor  at  Plymouth,  where 
the  English  fleet  was  lying,  with  the  news  that 
the  armada  was  coming  up  the  Channel  under 
full  sail.  The  anchors  of  the  fleet  were  imme- 
diately raised,  and  great  exertions  made  to  get 
it  out  of  the  harbor,  which  was  difficult,  at  th« 


228  QUEEN   ELIZABETH. 

4  (rand  ipecUcle.  A  iiagnlar  flght 

wind  at  the  time  was  blowing  directly  in.  Th« 
squadron  got  out  at  last,  as  night  was  coming 
on.  The  next  morning  the  armada  hove  in 
sight,  advancing  from  the  westward  up  the 
Channel,  in  a  vast  crescent,  which  extended  for 
seven  miles  from  north  to  south,  and  seemed  to 
sweep  the  whole  sea. 

It  was  a  magnificent  spectacle,  and  it  was 
the  ushering  in  of  that  far  grander  spectacle 
still,  of  which  the  English  Channel  was  the 
scene  for  the  ten  days  which  followed,  during 
which  the  enormous  naval  structures  of  the  ar- 
mada, as  they  slowly  made  their  way  along, 
were  followed,  and  fired  upon,  and  harassed  by 
the  smaller,  and  lighter,  and  more  active  ves- 
sels of  their  English  foes.  The  unwieldy  mon- 
sters pressed  on,  surrounded  and  worried  by  their 
nimbler  enemies  like  hawks  driven  by  kingfish- 
ers through  the  sky.  Day  after  day  this  most 
>xtraordinary  contest,  half  flight  and  half  bat- 
tlej  continued,  every  promontory  on  the  shores 
covered  all  the  time  with  spectators,  who  list- 
tned  to  the  distant  booming  of  the  guns,  and 
watched  the  smokes  which  arose  from  the  can- 
nonading and  the  conflagrations.  One  great 
galleon  after  another  fell  a  prey.  Some  were 
burned,  some  taken  as  prizes,  borne  driven 


1558.J  THE   INVINCIBLE  ARMADA.        231 

Defeat  of  the  armada.  A  remnant  eteapei 

ashore;  and  finally,  one  dark  night,  the  En* 
glish  sent  a  fleet  of  fire-ships,  ail  in  flames,  into 
the  midst  of  the  anchorage  to  which  the  Span* 
lards  had  retired,  which  scattered  them  in  ter- 
ror and  dismay,  and  completed  the  discomfiture 
of  the  squadron. 

The  result  was,  that  by  the  time  the  invin- 
cible armada  had  made  its  way  through  the 
Channel,  and  had  passed  the  Straits  of  Dover, 
it  was  so  dispersed,  and  shattered,  and  broken, 
that  its  commanders,  far  from  feeling  any  dis- 
position to  sail  up  the  Thames,  were  only  anx- 
ious to  make  good  their  escape  from  their  inde- 
fatigable and  tormenting  foes.  They  did  not 
dare,  in  attempting  to  make  this  escape,  to  re- 
turn through  the  Channel,  so  they  pushed  north- 
ward into  the  German  Ocean.  Their  only  course 
for  getting  back  to  Spain  again  was  to  pass 
found  the  northern  side  of  England,  among  the 
oold  and  stormy  seas  that  are  rolling  in  contin- 
ually among  the  ragged  rooks  and  gloomy  inl- 
ands which  darken  the  ocean  there.  At  last  a 
miserable  remnant  of  the  fleet — less  than  half- 
made  their  way  back  to  Spain  again. 


232  Q.UEEN  ELIZABETH.          [1588 

Character  of  EMOX.  D<Mth  of  Leioenet 


CHAPTER   XL 
THE  EARL  OF  ESSEX. 

FI1HE  lady  whom  the  Earl  of  Leicester  mar- 
•*-  ried  was,  a  short  time  before  he  married 
her,  the  wife  of  the  Earl  of  Essex,  and  she  had 
one  son,  who,  on  the  death  of  his  father,  became 
the  Earl  of  Essex  in  his  turn.  He  came  ti 
court,  and  continued  in  Leicester's  family  aftei 
his  mother's  second  marriage.  He  was  an  ac- 
complished and  elegant  young  man,  and  waa 
regarded  with  a  good  deal  of  favor  by  the  queen. 
He  was  introduced  at  court  when  he  waa  but 
seventeen  years  old,  and,  being  the  step-son  of 
Leicester,  he  necessarily  occupied  a  conspicu- 
ous position ;  his  personal  qualities,  joined  with 
this,  soon  gave  him  a  very  high  and  honorable 
name. 

About  a  month  after  the  victory  obtained  bj 
the  English  over  the  invincible  armada,  Leioea 
ter  was  seized  with  a  fever  on  a  journey,  aijd, 
after  lingering  for  a  few  days,  died,  leaving  Es- 
sex, as  it  were,  in  his  place.  Elizabeth  seems 
not  to  have  been  very  inconsolable  for  her  fa 


1588,]        THE  EARL  OF  ESSEX.  233 

E*MX  become*  the  queen's  farorita.  Cecu  and  EMMC 

vorite's  death.  She  directed,  or  allowed,  his 
properly  to  be  sold  at  auction,  to  pay  some 
debts  which  he  owed  her — or,  as  the  historians 
rf  the  day  express  it,  which  he  owed  the  crown 
— and  then  seemed  at  once  to  transfer  her  fond- 
ness and  affection  to  the  young  Essex,  who  was 
at  that  time  twenty-one  years  of  age.  Eliza- 
beth herself  was  now  nearly  sixty.  Cecil  /-was 
growing  old  also,  and  was  somewhat  infirm, 
though  he  had  a  son  who  was  rapidly  coming 
forward  in  rank  and  influence  at  court.  This 
son's  name  was  Robert.  The  young  Earl  of 
Essex's  name  was  Robert  too.  The  elder  Ce- 
cil and  Leicester  had  been,  all  their  lives, 
watchful  and  jealous  of  each  other,  and  in  some 
sense  rivals.  Robert  Cecil  and  Robert  Deve- 
reux — for  that  was,  in  full,  the  Earl  of  Essex'i 
family  name — being  young  and  ardent,  inherit- 
ed the  animosity  of  their  parents,  and  were  leas 
cautious  and  wary  in  expressing  it.  They  soon 
became  open  foes. 

Robert  Devereux,  or  Essex,  as  he  is  common- 
»y  called  in  history,  was  handsome  and  accom- 
plished, ardent,  impulsive,  and  generous.  The 
war  with  Spain,  notwithstanding  the  destruc- 
tion of  the  armada,  continued,  and  Essex  en 
tared  into  it  with  all  zeal.  The  queen,  who 


234  QUEEN   ELIIABETH.          [15«» 

Hi*  abeth'i  regard  for  Euex.  HU  impnttre  brarery 

with  all  her  ambition,  and  her  proud  and  dom- 
ineering spirit,  felt,  liie  any  other  woman,  the 
necessity  of  having  something  to  love,  soon  be- 
gan to  take  a  strong  interest  in  his  person  and 
fortunes,  and  seemed  to  love  him  as  a  mother 
loves  a  son ;  and  he,  in  his  turn,  soon  learned 
to  act  toward  her  as  a  son,  full  of  youthful 
courage  and  ardor,  often  acts  toward  a  mother 
over  whose  heart  he  feels  that  he  has  a  strong 
control.  He  would  go  away,  without  leave,  to 
mix  in  affrays  with  the  Spanish  ships  in  the 
English  Channel  and  in  the  Bay  of  Biscay,  and 
then  come  back  and  make  his  peace  with  the 
queen  by  very  humble  petitions  for  pardon,  and 
promises  of  future  obedience.  When  he  went, 
with  her  leave,  on  these  expeditions,  she  would 
«harge  his  superior  officers  to  keep  him  out  of 
danger ;  while  he,  with  an  impetuosity  which 
strongly  marked  his  character,  would  evade  and 
escape  from  all  these  injunctions,  and  press  for- 
ward into  every  possible  exposure,  always  eager 
to  have  battle  given,  and  to  get,  himself,  into 
the  hottest  part  of  it,  when  it  was  begun.  At 
one  time,  off  Cadiz,  the  officers  of  the  English 
ships  hesitated  some  time  whether  to  venture 
an  attack  upon  some  ships  in  the  harbor — Es- 
«ex  burning  with  in  patience  all  the  time — and 


1598.]         THK  EARL  OP  KSSBX.  23fi 

Buex'i  ardor  for  Uttle.  Bto  dML 

when  it  was  at  length  decided  to  make  the  at- 
tack, he  was  so  excited  with  enthusiasm  and 
pleasure  that  he  threw  his  cap  up  into  the  air, 
and  overboard,  perfectly  wild  with  delight,  like 
ft  school-boy  in  anticipation  of  a  holiday. 

Ten  years  passed  away,  and  Essex  rose  high* 
er  and  higher  in  estimation  and  honor.  He  was 
sometimes  in  the  queen's  palaces  at  home,  and 
•ometimes  away  on  the  Spanish  seas,  where  he 
Required  great  fame.  He  was  proud  and  im- 
perious at  court,  relying  on  his  influence  with 
the  queen,  who  treated  him  as  a  fond  mother 
treats  a  spoiled  child.  She  was  often  vexed 
with  his  conduct,  but  she  could  not  help  loving 
him.  One  day,  as  he  was  coming  into  the 
aueen's  presence  chamber,  he  saw  one  of  the 
courtiers  there  who  had  a  golden  ornament  upon 
his  arm  which  the  queen  had  given  him  tho 
day  before.  He  asked  what  it  was ;  they  told 
him  it  was  a  "  favor"  from  the  queen.  "  Ah," 
•aid  he,  "  I  see  how  it  is  going  to  be ;  every  fool 
must  have  his  favor."  The  courtier  resented 
this  mode  of  speaking  of  his  distinction,  and 
challenged  Essex  to  a  duel.  The  combatant* 
met  in  the  Park,  and  Essex  was  disarmed  and 
wounded.  The  queen  heard  of  the  affair,  and, 
inquiring  very  curiously  about  all  the  par 


QUEEN  ELIZABETH.          [1598 

remark  upon  the  duel.  She  giree  F»«i  a  ring 

tioulars,  she  said  that  she  was  glad  of  it ;  for, 
unless  there  was  somebody  to  take  dowz.  hi* 
pride,  there  would  be  no  such  thing  as  doing 
any  thing  with  him. 

Elizabeth's  feelings  toward  Essex  fluctuated 
in  strange  alternations  of  fondness  and  displeas- 
ure. At  one  time,  when  affection  was  in  the 
ascendency,  she  gave  him  a  ring,  as  a  talisman 
of  her  protection.  She  promised  him  that  if  he 
ever  should  become  involved  in  troubles  or  diffi- 
culties of  any  kind,  and  especially  if  he  should 
lose  her  favor,  either  by  his  own  misconduct  or 
by  the  false  accusations  of  his  enemies,  if  he 
would  send  her  that  ring,  it  should  serve  to  re- 
call her  former  kind  regard,  and  incline  her  to 
pardon  and  save  him.  Essex  took  the  ring,  and 
preserved  it  with  the  utmost  care. 

Friendship  between  persons  of  such  impetu- 
ous and  excitable  temperaments  as  Elizabeth 
and  Essex  both  possessed,  though  usually  very 
ardent  for  a  time,  is  very  precarious  and  uncer 
tain  in  duration.  After  various  petulant  ami 
brief  disputes,  which  were  easily  reconcile*  i, 
there  came  at  length  a  serious  quarrel.  There 
was,  at  that  time,  great  difficulty  in  Ireland', 
a  rebellion  had  broken  out,  in  fact,  which  was 
fomanted  and  encouraged  by  Spanish  influence. 


1598.J       THE  EARL  OF  ESSEX.  237 

n*  qnamL  The  box  on  th*  tarn, 

Essex  was  one  day  urging  very  strongly  the  ap- 
pointment of  one  of  his  friends  to  take  the  com* 
mand  there,  while  the  queen  was  disposed  to 
appoint  another  person.  Essex  urged  his  views 
and  wishes  with  much  importunity,  and  when 
he  found  that  the  queen  was  determined  not  to 
yield,  he  turned  his  back  upon  her  in  a  con- 
temptuous and  angry  manner.  The  queen  lost 
patience  in  her  turn,  and,  advancing  rapidly  to 
him,  her  eyes  sparkling  with  extreme  resent- 
ment and  displeasure,  she  gave  him  a  severe 
box  on  the  ear,  telling  him,  at  the  same  time,  to 
"  go  and  be  hanged."  Essex  was  exceedingly 
enraged ;  he  clasped  the  handle  of  his  sword, 
but  was  immediately  seized  by  the  other  court- 
iers present.  They,  however,  soon  released 
their  hold  upon  him,  and  he  walked  off  out  of 
the  apartment,  saying  that  he  could  not  and 
would  not  bear  such  an  insult  as  that.  He 
would  not  have  endured  it,  he  said,  from  King 
Henry  the  Eighth  himself.  The  name  of  King 
Henry  the  Eighth,  in  those  days,  was  the  sym- 
bol and  personification  of  the  highest  possible 
human  grandeur. 

The  friends  of  Essex  among  the  courtiers  ec- 
deavored  to  soothe  and  calm  him,  and  to  per- 
«uade  him  to  apologize  to  the  queen,  and  seek 


238  QUKBN  ELIZABETH.          f!598 


Be  «nd  EHubetfa  raoondM 


a  reconciliation.  They  told  him  that,  whether 
right  or  wrong,  he  ought  to  yield  ;  for  in  contests 
with  the  law  or  with  a  prince,  a  man,  they 
•aid,  ought,  if  wrong,  to  submit  himself  to  jus- 
tice ;  if  right,  to  necessity;  in  either  case,  it 
was  his  duty  to  submit 

This  was  very  good  philosophy;  but  Essex 
was  not  in  a  state  of  mind  to  listen  to  philoso- 
phy. He  wrote  a  reply  to  the  friend  who  had 
counseled  him  as  above,  that  "  the  queen  had 
the  temper  of  a  flint  ;  that  she  had  treated  him 
with  suoh  extreme  injustice  and  cruelty  so 
many  times  that  his  patience  was  exhausted, 
and  he  would  bear  it  no  longer.  He  knew  well 
enough  what  duties  he  owed  the  queen  as  an 
earl  and  grand  marshal  of  England,  but  he  did 
not  understand  being  cuffed  and  beaten  like  a 
menial  servant;  and  that  his  body  suffered  in 
every  part  from  the  blow  he  had  received." 

His  resentment,  however,  got  soothed  and 
softened  in  time,  and  he  was  again  admitted  to 
favor,  though  the  consequences  of  suoh  quar- 
rels are  seldom  folly  repaired.  The  reconcil- 
iation was,  nowever,  in  this  case,  apparently 
complete,  and  in  the  following  year  Essex  was 
himself  appointed  the  Governor,  or,  as  styled  iv 
those  days,  the  Lord  Deputy  of  Ireland 


1599.]         THE  EARL  OF  ESSEX.  23f» 

CMex-aent  to  Ireland.  Curious  negotiation! 

He  went  to  his  province,  and  took  command 
of  the  forces  which  had  been  collected  there, 
iKtl  engaged  zealously  in  the  work  of  suppress- 
ing the  rebellion.  For  some  reason  or  other, 
however,  he  made  very  little  progress.  The 
name  of  the  leader  of  the  rebels  was  the  Earl 
of  Tyrone.*  Tyrone  wanted  a  parley,  but  did 
not  dare  to  trust  himself  in  Essex's  power. 
It  was  at  last,  however,  agreed  that  the  two 
leaders  should  come  down  to  a  river,  one  of 
them  upon  each  side,  and  talk  across  it,  nei- 
ther general  to  have  any  troops  or  attendants 
with  him.  This  plan  was  carried  into  effect. 
Essex,  stationing  a  troop  near  him,  on  a  hill, 
rode  down  to  the  water  on  one  side,  while  Ty- 
rone came  into  the  river  as  far  as  his  horse  could 
wade  on  the  other,  and  then  the  two  earls  at- 
tempted to  negotiate  terms  of  peace  by  shout- 
ing across  the  current  of  the  stream. 

Nothing  effectual  was  accomplished  by  this 
tni  some  other  similar  parleys,  and  in  the  mean 
time  the  weeks  were  passing  away,  and  little 
was  done  toward  suppressing  the  rebellion. 
Ths  queen  was  dissatisfied.  She  sent  Essex 
letters  of  complaint  and  censure.  These  letters 
awakened  the  lord  deputy's  resentment  The 

•  Spelled  in  the  old  histories  Tir-Oen 


240  QUEEN  ELIZABETH.  [1599 

The  qneen'i  dfepleMV*.  EMBX'C  sudden  rotem 

breach  was  thus  rapidly  widening,  when  Essex 
til  at  onoe  conceived  the  idea  of  going  himself 
io  England,  without  permission,  and  without 
giving  any  notice  of  his  intention,  to  endeavor, 
by  a  personal  interview,  to  reinstate  himself  in 
the  favor  of  the  queen. 

This  was  a  very  bold  step.  It  was  entirely 
contrary  to  military  etiquette  for  an  officer  to 
leave  his  command  and  go  home  to  his  sover- 
eign without  orders  and  without  permission. 
The  plan,  however,  might  have  succeeded.  Lei- 
cester did  onoe  succeed  in  such  a  measure ;  but 
in  this  case,  unfortunately,  it  failed.  Essex  trav- 
eled with  the  utmost  dispatch,  crossed  the  Chan- 
nel, made  the  best  of  his  way  to  the  palace 
where  the  queen  was  then  residing,  and  pressed 
through  the  opposition  of  all  the  attendants  into 
the  queen's  private  apartment,  in  his  traveling 
dress,  soiled  and  way-worn.  The  ^ueeii  was 
at  her  toilet,  with  her  hair  down  over  her  eyes. 
Essex  fell  on  his  knees  before  her,  kissed  her 
hand,  and  made  great  professions  of  gratitude 
and  love,  and  of  an  extreme  desire  to  deserve 
and  enjoy  her  favor.  The  queen  was  astonished 
at  his  appearance,  but  Essex  thought  that  she 
received  him  kindly.  He  went  away  after  a 
abort  interview,  greatly  pleased  with  the  prr« 


1599]       THE  EARL  OF   ESSEX.  243 

BIIMC  U  arrested.  HMentment  and  lor* 


peot  of  a  favorable  issue  to  the  desperate  step 
he  had  taken.  His  joy,  however,  was  soon  dis- 
pelled. In  the  course  of  the  day  he  was  arrest* 
ed  by  order  of  the  queen,  and  sent  to  his  honM 
under  the  custody  of  an  officer.  He  had  pre- 
sumed too  far. 

Essex  was  kept  thus  secluded  and  confined 
\n  some  time.  His  house  was  on  the  bank  cf 
the  river.  None  of  his  friends,  not  even  his 
countess,  were  allowed  access  to  him.  His  im- 
petuous spirit  wore  itself  out  in  chafing  against 
the  restraints  and  means  of  coercion  which 
were  pressing  upon  him ;  but  he  would  not  sub- 
mit. The  mind  of  the  queen,  too,  was  deeply 
agitated  all  the  time  by  that  most  tempestuous 
of  all  mental  conflicts,  a  struggle  between  re- 
sentment and  love.  Her  affection  for  her  proud- 
spirited favorite  seemed  as  strong  as  ever,  but 
she  was  determined  to  make  him  yield  in  the 
contest  she  had  commenced  with  him.  How 
often  oases  precisely  similar  occur  in  less  con- 
spicuous scenes  of  action,  where  they  who  -ove 
each  other  with  a  sincere  and  uncontrollable  af- 
fection take  their  stand  in  attitudes  of  hostili- 
ty, each  determined  that  the  obstinacy  of  the 
•ther  shall  give  way,  and  each  heart  persisting 
in  its  own  determination,  resentment  and  lovo 


244  QUKKN   EL  ZABBTH.  [1599 

EMOX'I  *•««•  and  «kagrt*  Ha  U  tote  ri«fc 

struggling  all  the  time  in  a  dreadful  contest, 
which  keeps  the  soul  in  a  perpetual  commotion, 
and  allows  of  no  peace  till  either  the  obstinacy 
yields  or  the  love  is  extinguished  and  gone. 

It  was  indirectly  made  known  to  Essex  that 
if  he  would  confess  his  fault,  ask  the  queen's 
forgiveness,  and  petition  for  a  release  from  con- 
finement, in  order  that  he  might  return  to  his 
duties  in  Ireland,  the  difficulty  could  be  settled. 
But  no,  he  would  make  no  concessions.  The 
queen,  in  retaliation,  increased  the  pressure 
upon  him.  The  more  strongly  he  felt  the  press- 
ure, the  more  his  proud  and  resentful  spirit  was 
aroused.  He  walked  his  room,  his  soul  boiling 
with  anger  and  chagrin,  while  the  queen,  equal- 
ly distressed  and  harassed  by  the  conflict  in 
her  own  soul,  still  persevered,  hoping  every  day 
that  the  unbending  spirit  with  which  she  was 
contending  would  yield  at  last. 

At  length  the  tidings  came  to  her  that  Essex, 
worn  out  with  agitation  and  suffering,  was  se- 
riously sick.  The  historians  doubt  whether  hit 
sickness  was  real  or  feigned ;  but  there  is  not 
much  difficulty  in  understanding,  from  the  dr- 
onmstanoes  of  the  case,  what  its  real  nature 
was.  Such  mental  conflicts  as  those  which  he 
•ailured  suspend  the  powers  of  digestion  aud 


1599.]       THE  EARL  OF  ESSEX.  244 

f  ton*  of  EMBX'S  §ickne»«.  The  queen' §  caxbfty 

toeelerate  the  pulsations  of  the  heart,  which 
beats  in  the  bosom  with  a  preternatural  fre- 
quency and  foroe,  like  a  bird  fluttering  to  got 
free  from  a  snare.  The  result  is  a  sort  of  fe- 
«rer  burning  slowly  in  the  veins,  and  an  ema- 
ciation which  wastes  the  strength  away,  and, 
in  impetuous  and  uncontrollable  spirits,  like 
that  of  Essex,  sometimes  exhausts  the  powers 
of  life  altogether.  The  sickness,  therefore, 
though  of  mental  origin,  becomes  ,  bodily  and 
real;  but  then  the  sufferer  is  often  ready,  in 
luoh  oases,  to  add  a  little  to  it  by  feigning. 
An  instinct  teaches  him  that  nothing  is  so  like- 
"/  to  move  the  heart  whose  cruelty  causes  him 
to  suffer,  as  a  knowledge  of  the  extreme  to 
which  it  has  reduced  him.  Essex  was  doubt- 
less willing  that  Elizabeth  should  know  that 
he  was  sick.  Her  knowing  it  had,  in  some 
measure,  the  usual  effect.  It  reawakened  and 
strengthened  the  love  she  had  felt  for  him,  bat 
did  not  give  it  absolutely  the  victory.  She  sent 
eight  physicians  to  him,  to  examine  and  con- 
sult upon  his  case.  She  caused  some  broth  to 
be  made  for  him,  and  gave  it  to  one  of  these 
physicians  to  carry  to  him,  directing  the  mes- 
senger, in  a  faltering  voice,  to  say  to  Essex 
that  if  it  were  proper  to  do  so  she  would  hav* 


246  QUEBN   ELIZABETH.           [1599 

The  queen'*  Undaew  to  KMBT.  They  are  reconciled  afate 

oome  to  see  him  herself.  She  then  turned  away 
to  hide  her  tears.  Strange  inconsistency  of  the 
human  heart — resentment  and  anger  holding 
their  ground  in  the  son!  against  the  object  of 
•noh  deep  and  unconquerable  love.  It  would 
be  incredible,  were  it  not  that  probably  every 
single  one  of  all  the  thousands  who  may  read 
this  story  has  experienced  the  same. 

Nothing  has  so  great  an  effect  in  awakening 
in  the  heart  a  strong  sentiment  of  kindness  as 
the  performance  of  a  kind  act.  Feeling  origi- . 
nates  and  controls  action,  it  is  true,  bnt  then, 
on  the  other  hand,  action  has  a  prodigious  pow- 
er in  modifying  feeling.  Elizabeth's  acts  of 
kindness  to  Essex  in  his  sickness  produced  a 
renewal  of  her  tenderness  for  him  so  strong 
that  her  obstinacy  and  anger  gave  way  before 
it,  and  she  soon  began  to  desire  some  mode  of 
releasing  him  from  his  confinement,  and  restor- 
ing him  to  favor.  Essex  was  softened  too.  In 
a  word,  there  was  finally  a  reconciliation,  the  ngk 
it  was  accomplished  by  slow  degrees,  and  by 
means  of  a  sort  of  series  of  capitulations.  There 
was  an  investigation  of  his  case  before  the  privy 
council,  which  resulted  in  a  condemnation  o* 
his  conduct,  and  a  recommendation  to  the  mer- 
cy of  the  queen ;  and  then  followed  some  com- 


1599.)        THE  EARL  OF  ESPBX.  247 

IMBI'I  promUe*.  The  que«n'»  ungmerev  ooodM* 

mtmications  between  Essex  and  his  sovereign, 
in  which  he  expressed  sorrow  for  his  faults,  and 
made  <«atisfaotory  promises  for  the  future. 

The  queen,  however,  had  not  magnanimity 
enough  to  let  the  quarrel  end  without  taunting 
and  irritating  the  penitent  with  expressions  of 
triumph.  In  reply  to  his  acknowledgments  and 
professions,  she  told  him  that  she  was  glad  to 
hear  of  his  good  intentions,  and  she  hoped  that 
he  would  show,  by  his  future  conduct,  that  he 
meant  to  fulfill  them;  that  he  had  tried  her 
patience  for  a  long  time,  but  she  hoped  that 
henceforth  she  should  have  no  further  trouble. 
If  it  had  been  her  father,  she  added,  instead  of 
herself,  that  he  had  had  to  deal  with,  he  would 
not  have  been  pardoned  at  all.  It  could  not  be 
a  very  cordial  reconciliation  which  was  consum- 
mated by  such  words  as  these.  But  it  was  very 
like  Elizabeth  to  utter  them.  They  who  aw 
governed  by  their  temper  are  governed  by  it 
even  in  their  love. 

Essex  was  not  restored  to- office.  In  fact,,  he 
did  not  wish  to  be  restored.  He  said  that  he 
wa»  resolved  henceforth  to  lead  a  private  life. 
But  even  in  respect  to  this  plan  he  was  at  the 
mercy  of  the  queen,  for  his  private  income  was 
in  a  great  measure  derived  from  a  monopoly,  aa 


248  Q.UEEN  ELIZABETH.          [1599 

EMU*!  monopoly  of  wine*.  The  queen  refuse  to  renew  It 

It  is  called,  in  a  certain  kind  of  wines,  which 
had  been  granted  to  him  some  tune  before.  It 
was  a  very  customary  mode,  in  those  days,  of 
enriching  favorites,  to  grant  them  monopolies 
of  certain  kinds  of  merchandise,  that  is,  the  ex- 
olnsive  right  to  sell  them.  The  persons  to  whom 
this  privilege  was  granted  wonld  underlet  their 
right  to  merchants  in  various  parts  of  the  king- 
dom, on  condition  of  receiving  a  certain  share 
of  the  profits.  Essex  had  thus  derived  a  great 
revenue  from  his  monopoly  of  wines.  The  grant, 
however,  was  expiring,  and  he  1,otn,ioned  the 
qneen  that  it  might  be  renewed. 

The  interest  which  Essex  felt  in  the  renewal 
of  this  grant  was  one  of  the  strongest  induce- 
ments to  lead  him  to  submit  to  the  humilia- 
tions which  he  had  endured,  and  to  make  con- 
cessions to  the  queen.     But  he  was  disappoint- 
ed in  his  hopes.     The  queen,  elated  a  little  with 
the  triumph  already  attained,  and,  perhaps,  de- 
sirous of  the  pleasure  of  humbling  Essex  still 
nore,  refused  at  present  to  renew  his  monopo- 
y,  saying  that  she  thought  it  would  do  him 
good  to  be  restricted  a  little,  for  a  time,  in  his 
means.  "  Unmanageable  beasts,"  she  said,  "  had 
•^  be  tamed  by  being  stinted  in  their  provender." 
Essex  was  sharply  stung  by  such  a  refusal 


1600.]        THE  EARL  OF   ESSEX.  249 

EMez  mada  desperate.  Hi*  treasonable  Mbame* 

accompanied,  too,  by  such  an  insult.  He  was 
full  of  indignation  and  anger.  At  first  he  gave 
free  expression  to  his  feelings  of  vexation  in 
conversation  with  those  around  him.  The 
queen,  he  said,  had  got  to  be  a  perverse  and  ob- 
stinate old  woman,  as  orooked  in  mind  as  sht 
was  in  body.  He  had  plenty  of  enemies  to  lis- 
ten to  these  speeches,  and  to  report  them  in  such 
a  way  as  that  they  should  reach  the  queen.  A 
new  breach  was  consequently  opened,  which 
seemed  now  wider  than  ever,  and  irreparable. 

At  least  it  seemed  so  to  Essex ;  and,  aban- 
doning all  plans  for  again  enjoying  the  favor  of 
Elizabeth,  he  began  to  consider  what  he  could 
do  to  undermine  her  power  and  rise  upon  the 
ruins  of  it.  The  idea  was  insanity,  but  passion 
always  makes  men  insane.  James,  king  of 
Scotland,  the  son  and  successor  of  Mary,  was 
the  rightful  heir  to  the  English  throne  after 
Elizabeth's  death.  In  order  to  make  his  right 
of  succession  more  secure,  he  had  wished  to 
have  Elizabeth  acknowledge  it ;  but  she,  always 
dreading  terribly  the  thoughts  of  death,  could 
never  bear  to  think  of  a  successor,  and  seemed 
to  hate  every  one  who  entertained  any  expec- 
tation of  following  her.  Essex  suppressed  aU 
jutward  expressions  of  violence  and  anger ;  be* 


250  QUEEN  ELIZABETH.  [1600 

Hjtniflcatlonj  of  the  plot  It  U  dUecmnd 

came  thoughtful,  moody,  and  sullen  ;  held  se- 
cret consultations  with  desperate  intriguers,  and 
finally  formed  a  scheme  to  organize  a  rebellion. 
to  bring  King  James's  troops  to  England  to  sup- 
port it,  to  take  possession  of  the  Tower  and  of 
the  strong-holds  about  London,  to  seize  the  pal- 
aoo  of  the  queen,  overturn  her  g  jvernment,  and 
compel  her  both  to  acknowledge  James's  right 
to  the  succession  and  to  restore  Essex  himself 
to  power. 

The  personal  character  of  Essex  had  given 
him  a  very  wide-spread  popularity  and  influ- 
ence, and  he  had,  consequently,  very  extensive 
materials  at  his  command  fbr  organizing  a  pow- 
erful conspiracy.  The  plot  was  gradually  ma- 
tured, extending  itself,  in  the  course  of  the  few 
following  months,  not  only  throughout  England, 
but  also  into  France  and  Spain.  The  time  for 
the  final  explosion  was  drawing  near,  when,  as 
usual  in  such  oases,  intelligence  of  the  exist- 
ence of  this  treason,  in  the  form  of  vague  ru- 
mors, reached  the  queen.  One  day,  when  th« 
leading  conspirators  were  assembled  at  Essex's 
palace,  a  messenger  came  to  summon  the  earl 
to  appear  before  the  council.  They  received, 
also.;  private  intelligence  that  their  plots  were 
probably  discovered.  While  they  were  oonsid- 


1600.]         THE  EARL  OF  ESSEX.  251 

Aaxlonj  deliberation*.  The  rtainf  determined  vpoa. 

ering  what  to  do  in  this  emergency — all  in  a 
state  of  great  perplexity  and  fear — a  person 
earn*,  pretending  to  be  a  deputy  sent  from  sonic 
if  the  principal  citizens  of  London,  to  say  to 
Essex  that  they  were  ready  to  espouse  his 
cause.  Essex  immediately  became  urgent  to 
commence  the  insurrection  at  once.  Some  of 
his  friends,  on  the  other  hand,  were  in  favor  of 
abandoning  the  enterprise,  and  flying  from  the 
country ;  but  Essex  said  he  had  rather  be  shot 
at  the  head  of  his  bands,  than  to  wander  all  his 
days  beyond  the  seas,  a  fugitive  and  a  vagabond. 
The  conspirators  acceded  to  their  leader's 
councils.  They  sent  word,  accordingly,  into 
the  city,  and  began  to  make  their  arrangements 
to  rise  in  arms  the  next  morning.  The  night 
was  spent  in  anxious  preparations.  Early  in 
the  morning,  a  deputation  of  some  of  the  high- 
est officers  of  the  government,  with  a  train  of 
attendants,  came  to  Essex's  palace,  and  de- 
manded entrance  in  the  name  of  the  queen 
The  gates  of  the  palace  were  shut  and  guarded, 
it  last,  after  some  hesitation  and  delay,  the 
Conspirators  opened  a  wicket,  that  is,  a  small 
gate  within  the  large  one,  which  would  admit 
one  person  at  a  time.  They  allowed  the  officers 
themselves  to  enter,  but  shut  the  gate  immedi- 


252  QUEEN  ELIZABETH.  [1600 


EtMZ  outer*  the  city 


ately  so  as  to  exclude  the  attendants.  The  offi- 
cers found  themselves  in  a  large  court-yard  fili- 
al with  armed  men,  Essex  standing  calmly  at 
&:-  head  of  them.  They  demanded  what  WM 
the  meaning  of  such  an  unusual  assemblage. 
Essex  replied  that  it  was  to  defend  his  life  from 
conspiracies  formed  against  it  by  his  enemies. 
The  officers  denied  this  danger,  and  began  to 
expostulate  with  Essex  in  angry  terms,  and  the 
attendants  on  his  side  to  reply  with  vocifera- 
tions and  threats,  when  Essex,  to  end  the  alter- 
cation, took  the  officers  into  the  palace.  He 
conducted  them  to  a  room  and  shut  them  up, 
to  keep  them  as  hostages. 

It  was  now  near  ten  o'clock,  and,  leaving  his 
prisoners  in  their  apartment,  under  a  proper 
guard,  Essex  sallied  forth,  with  the  more  reso- 
lute and  desperate  of  his  followers,  and  pro- 
ceeded into  the  city,  to  bring  out  into  action 
the  forces  which  he  supposed  were  ready  to  co- 
operate with  him  there.  He  rode  on  through 
the  streets,  calling  to  arms,  and  shouting,  "For 
the  queen  !  For  the  queen  !"  His  design  was 
to  convey  the  impression  that  the  movement 
which  he  was  making  was  not  against  the 
queen  herself,  but  against  his  own  enemies  in 
her  councils,  and  that  she  was  herself  on  hi* 


1600.]         THE  EARL  OP  ESHEJL.  259 


HM  proclamation. 


side.  The  people  of  London,  however,  oonld 
not  be  so  easily  deceived.  The  mayor  had  re- 
ceived warning  before,  from  the  connoM,  to  be 
ready  to  suppress  the  movement,  if  one  should 
be  made.  As  soon,  therefore,  as  Essex  and  his 
company  were  fairly  in  the  city,  the  gates  were 
shut  and  barred  to  prevent  his  return.  One  of 
the  queen's  principal  ministers  of  state  too,  at 
the  head  of  a  small  troop  of  horsemen,  came  in 
and  rode  through  the  streets,  proclaiming  Essex 
a  traitor,  and  calling  upon  all  the  citizens  to 
aid  in  arresting  him.  One  of  Essex's  follower! 
fired  a  pistol  at  this  officer  to  stop  his  procla- 
mation, but  the  people  generally  seemed  dis- 
posed to  listen  to  him,  and  to  comply  with  hi* 
demand.  After  riding,  therefore,  through  some 
of  the  principal  streets,  he  returned  to  the 
queen,  and  reported  to  her  that  all  was  well  in 
the  city ;  there  was  no  danger  that  Essex  would 
succeed  in  raising  a  rebellion  there. 

In  the  mean  time,  the  further  Essex  proceed- 
ed, the  more  he  found  himself  environed  with 
difficulties  and  dangers.  The  people  began  to 
Assemble  here  and  there  with  evident  intent  to 
impede  his  movements.  They  blocked  up  the 
streets  with  carts  and  coaches  to  prevent  his  es- 
cape. His  followers,  one  after  another,  finding 


254  QUEEN  ELIZABETH  [IftOO 

EM«X'I  bopeleM  condition.  He  escapes  to  hi*  palace 

all  hope  of  success  gone,  abandoned  their  de- 
spairing leader  and  fled.  Essex  himself,  with 
the  few  who  still  adhered  to  him,  wandered 
about  till  two  o'clock,  finding  the  way  of  retreat 
every  where  hemmed  up  against  him.  At 
length  he  fled  to  the  river  side,  took  a  boat, 
with  the  few  who  still  remained  with  him,  and 
ordered  the  watermen  to  row  as  rapidly  as  pos- 
sible up  the  river.  They  landed  at  Westmin- 
ster, retreated  to  Essex's  house,  fled  into  it  with 
the  utmost  precipitation,  and  barricaded  the 
doors.  Essex  himself  was  excited  in  the  high- 
est degree,  fully  determined  to  die  there  rather 
than  surrender  himself  a  prisoner.  The  terri- 
ble desperation  to  which  men  are  reduced  in 
emergencies  like  these  is  shown  by  the  fact  that 
one  of  his  followers  did  actually  station  himself 
at  a  window  bare-headed,  inviting  a  shot  from 
the  pistols  of  the  pursuers,  who  had  by  this  time 
environed  the  house,  and  were  preparing  to  fore* 
their  way  in.  His  plan  succeeded.  He  was 
shot,  and  died  that  night. 

Essex  himself  was  not  quite  so  desperate  aa 
this.  He  soon  saw,  however,  that  he  must  soon- 
er or  later  yield.  He  could  not  stand  a  siege 
in  his  own  private  dwelling  against  the  whole 
force  of  the  English  realm.  Ho  surrendered 


1600.J        THE   EARL  OP  ESSEX  5J55 

Eaaex  made  prisoner,  tried,  and  condemned.  HI*  reman* 

aboat  six  in  the  evening,  and  was  sent  to  the 
Tower.  He  was  soon  afterward  brought  to  tri- 
al.  The  facts,  with  all  the  arrangements  and 
details  of  the  conspiracy,  were  fully  proved,  and 
he  was  condemned  to  die. 

As  the  unhappy  prisoner  lay  in  his  gloomy 
dungeon  in  the  Tower,  the  insane  excitement 
under  which  he  had  for  so  many  months  been 
acting  slowly  ebbed  away.  He  awoke  from  it 
gradually,  as  one  recovers  his  senses  after  a 
dreadful  dieam.  He  saw  how  utterly  irretriev- 
able was  the  mischief  which  had  been  done 
Remorse  for  his  guilt  in  having  attempted  to 
destroy  the  peace  of  the  kingdom  to  gratify  his 
own  personal  feelings  of  revenge ;  recollections 
of  the  favors  which  Elizabeth  had  shown  him, 
and  of  the  love  which  she  had  felt  for  him,  ob- 
viously so  deep  and  sincere ;  the  consciousness 
that  his  life  was  fairly  forfeited,  and  that  he 
must  die— to  lie  in  his  cell  and  think  of  these 
things,  overwhelmed  him  with  anguish  and  dt> 
gpair.  The  brilliant  prospects  which  were  no 
recently  before  him  were  all  forever  gone,  leav- 
ing nothing  in  their  place  but  the  grim  phan- 
tom of  an  executioner,  standing  with  an  ax  by 
the  side  of  a  dreadful  platform,  with  a  block 
upon  it,  half  revealed  and  half  hidden  by  the 
Slack  cloth  which  covered  it  like  a  pall 


256  QUEEN  ELIZABETH.          [1600 

EUxabetii'f  dbtreM.  The  ring  not  iwt 

Elizabeth,  in  her  palace,  was  in  a  state  of 
mind  scarcely  less  distressing  than  that  of  the 
wretched  prisoner  in  his  cell.  The  old  conflict 
was  renewed — pride  and  resentment  on  the  one 
side,  and  love  which  would  not  be  extinguished 
on  the  other.  If  Essex  would  sue  for  pardon, 
she  would  remit  his  sentence  and  allow  him  to 
live.  Why  would  he  not  do  it  ?  If  he  would 
send  her  the  ring  which  she  had  given  him  for 
exactly  such  an  emergency,  he  might  be  saved. 
Why  did  he  not  send  it?  The  courtiers  and 
statesmen  about  her  urged  her  to  sign  the  war 
rant ;  the  peace  of  the  country  demanded  the 
execution  of  the  laws  in  a  case  of  such  unquee» 
tionable  guilt.  They  told  her,  too,  that  Essex 
wished  to  die,  that  he  knew  that  he  was  hope- 
lessly and  irretrievably  ruined,  and  that  life,  if 
granted  to  him,  was  a  boon  which  would  com- 
promise her  own  safety  and  confer  no  benefit  on 
him.  Still  Elizabeth  waited  and  waited  in  an 
agony  of  suspense,  in  hopes  that  the  ring  would 
come ;  the  sending  of  it  would  be  so  far  an  act 
of  submission  on  his  part  as  would  put  it  in  hei 
power  to  do  the  rest.  Her  love  could  bend  her 
pride,  indomitable  as  it  usually  was,  almost  tc 
the  whole  concession,  but  it  would  not  give  up 
quite  all.  It  demanded  some  sacrifice  on  hi* 


1600.]        THE  EARL   OP  ESSEX  257 

The  warrant  signed.  Th«  platfoim 

part,  which  sacrifice  the  sending  of  the  ring 
would  have  rendered.  The  ring  did  not  come, 
nor  any  petition  for  mercy,  and  at  length  the 
fatal  warrant  was  signed. 

What  the  courtiers  said  about  Essex's  desire 
to  die  was  doubtless  true.  Like  every  other 
person  involved  in  irretrievable  sufferings  and 
sorrows,  he  wanted  to  live,  and  he  wanted  to 
die.  The  two  contradictory  desires  shared  do- 
minion in  his  heart,  sometimes  struggling  to- 
gether in  a  tumultuous  conflict,  and  sometimes 
reigning  in  alternation,  in  calms  more  terrible, 
in  fact,  than  the  tempests  which  preceded  and 
followed  them. 

At  the  appointed  time  the  unhappy  man  was 
led  out  to  the  court-yard  in  the  Tower  where 
(he  last  scene  was  to  be  enacted.  The  lieuten- 
ant of  the  Tower  presided,  dressed  in  a  black 
velvet  gown,  over  a  suit  of  black  satin.  The 
"  scaffold"  was  a  platform  about  twelve  feet 
•quare  and  four  feet  high,  with  a  railing  around 
it,  and  steps  by  which  to  ascend.  The  block 
was  in  the  center  of  it,  covered,  as  well  as  the 
platform  itself,  with  black  cloth.  There  were 
•eat*  erected  near  for  those  who  were  appointed 
to  be  present  at  the  execution.  Essex  ascend- 
*d  the  platform  with  a  firm  step,  and,  survey* 
26—17 


258  QUEEN  ELIZABETH.  [1600 

Ewex'g  Ust  word*.  Hie  clodng  •eema 

ing  the  solemn  scene  aronnd  him  with  calmness 
and  composure,  he  began  to  speak. 

He  asked  the  forgiveness  of  God,  of  the  spec- 
tators present,  and  of  the  queen,  for  the  crimes 
for  which  he  was  about  to  suffer.  He  acknowl- 
edged his  guilt,  and  the  justice  of  his  condem- 
nation. His  mind  seemed  deeply  imbued  with 
a  sense  of  his  accountability  to  God,  and  he 
expressed  a  strong  desire  to  be  forgiven,  for 
Christ's  sake,  for  all  the  sins  which  he  had  com- 
mitted, which  had  been,  he  said,  most  numer- 
ous and  aggravated  from  his  earliest  years.  He 
asked  the  spectators  present  to  join  him  in  his 
devotions,  and  he  then  proceeded  to  offer  a  short 
prayer,  in  which  he  implored  pardon  for  his  sins, 
and  a  long  life  and  happy  reign  for  the  queen. 
The  prayer  ended,  all  was  ready.  The  execu- 
tioner, according  to  the  strange  custom  on  such 
occasions,  then  asked  his  pardon  for  the  violence 
which  he  was  about  to  commit,  which  Essex 
readily  granted.  Essex  laid  his  head  upon  the 
block,  and  it  required  three  blows  to  complete 
its  severance  from  the  body.  When  the  deed 
was  done,  the  executioner  took  up  the  bleeding 
head,  saying  solemnly,  as  he  held  it,  "  God  save 
the  queen." 

There  were  but  few  spectators  present  at  thi» 


1600.]        THE  EARL  OF  ESSEX.  259 

The  courtier.  Hli  tttmAimk  pleasure 

dreadful  scene,  and  they  were  chiefly  persona 
required  to  attend  in  the  discharge  of  their  offi 
oial  duties.  There  was,  however,  one  excep- 
tion ;  it  was  that  of  a  courtier  of  high  rank.  «rho 
had  long  been  Essex's  inveterate  enemy,  and 
who  could  not  deny  himself  the  savage  pleasure 
of  witnessing  his  rival's  destruction.  But  even 
the  stern  and  iron-hearted  officers  of  the  Tower 
were  shocked  at  his  appearing  at  the  scaffold. 
They  urged  him  to  go  away,  and  not  distress 
the  dying  man  by  his  presence  at  such  an  hour 
The  courtier  yielded  so  far  as  to  withdraw  from 
the  scaffold ;  but  he  could  not  go  far  away.  He 
found  a  place  where  he  could  stand  unobserved 
to  witness  the  scene,  at  the  window  of  a  turret 
which  overlooked  the  court-yard. 


260  QUEEN  ELIZABETH.          [1600 

of  E*MX'I  guilt  General  opinion  of  mank.'id, 


CHAPTER  XII. 
THE  CONCLUSION.  , 

F11HERE  can  be  no  doubt  that  Essex  was 
-*-  really  guilty  of  the  treason  for  which  he  was 
condemned,  but  mankind  have  generally  been 
inclined  to  consider  Elizabeth  rather  than  him 
as  the  one  really  accountable,  both  for  the  crime 
and  its  consequences.  To  elate  and  intoxicate, 
in  the  first  place,  an  ardent  and  ambitious  boy, 
by  flattery  and  favors,  and  then,  in  the  end,  on 
the  occurrence  of  real  or  fancied  causes  of  dis- 
pleasure, to  tease  and  torment  so  sensitive  and 
impetuous  a  spirit  to  absolute  madness  and 
phrensy,  was  to  take  the  responsibility,  in  a 
great  measure,  for  all  the  effects  which  might 
follow.  At  least  so  it  has  generally  been  re- 
garded By  almost  all  the  readers  of  the  story, 
Essex  is  pitied  and  mourned — it  is  Elizabeth 
that  is  condemned.  It  is  a  melancholy  story ; 
but  scenes  exactly  parallel  to  this  case  are  con- 
tinually occurring  in  private  life  all  around  na 
where  sorrows  and  sufferings  which  are,  so  faf 
AM  the  heart  is  concerned,  precisely  the  same 


1601.]  THE  CONCLUSION.  261 

Bi»«beth'i  dlrtroM.  Fall  of-f«MX*  party 

result  from  the  combined  action,  or  rather,  per. 
haps,  the  alternating  and  contending  action,  of 
fondness,  passion,  and  obstinacy.  The  results 
are  always,  in  their  own  nature,  the  same,  though 
not  often  on  so  great  a  scale  as  to  make  the 
wrong  which  follows  treason  against  a  realm, 
and  the  consequences  a  beheading  in  the  Tower. 
There  must  have  been  some  vague  conscious- 
ness of  this  her  share  in  the  guilt  of  the  trans- 
action in  Elizabeth's  mind,  even  while  the  trial 
of  Essex  was  going  on.  We  know  that  she 
was  harassed  by  the  most  tormenting  suspense 
and  perplexity  while  the  question  of  the  execu- 
tion of  his  sentence  was  pending.  Of  course, 
when  the  plot  was  discovered,  Essex's  party 
and  all  his  friends  fell  immediately  from  all  in- 
fluence  and  consideration  at  court.  Many  of 
them  were  arrested  and  imprisoned,  and  foui 
were  executed,  as  he  had  been.  The  party 
which  had  been  opposed  to  him  acquired  at  once 
the  entire  ascendency,  and  they  all,  judges, 
counselors,  statesmen,  and  generals,  combined 
their  influence  to  press  upon  the  queen  the  ne- 
cessity of  his  execution.  She  signed  one  war- 
rant  and  delivered  it  to  the  officer ;  but  then,  as 
soon  as  the  deed  was  done,  she  was  so  over- 
whelmed with  distress  and  anguish  that  she 


262  QUEEN    ELIZABETH.          [1601 

Wound*  of  the  heart  Elizabeth's  efforts  to  reoorer  her  iplrlta 

sent  to  recall  it,  and  had  it  canceled.  Finally 
she  signed  another,  and  the  sentence  was  exe- 
crated. 

Time  will  cure,  in  our  earlier  years,  most  of 
the  sufferings,  and  calm  most  of  the  agitations 
of  the  soul,  however  incurable  and  uncontrolla- 
ble they  may  at  first  appear  to  the  sufferer.  But 
in  the  later  periods  of  life,  when  severe  shocks 
strike  very  heavily  upon  the  soul,  there  is  found 
far  less  of  buoyancy  and  recovering  power  to 
meet  the  blow.  In  such  oases  the  stunned  and 
bewildered  spirit  moves  on,  after  receiving  its 
wound,  staggering,  as  it  were,  with  faintness 
and  pain,  and  leaving  it  for  a  long  time  uncer- 
tain whether  it  will  ultimately  rise  and  recover, 
or  sink  down  and  die. 

Dreadfully  wounded  as  Elizabeth  was,  in  all 
the  inmost  feelings  and  affections  of  her  heart, 
by  the  execution  of  her  beloved  favorite,  she 
was  a  woman  of  far  too  much  spirit  and  ener- 
gy to  yield  without  a  struggle.  She  made  the 
greatest  efforts  possible  after  his  death  to  ban- 
jsh  the  subject  from  her  mind,  and  to  recover 
her  wonted  spirits.  She  went  on  hunting  ex- 
cursions and  parties  of  pleasure.  She  prosecu- 
ted with  great  energy  her  war  with  the  Span- 
iards, and  tried  to  interest  herself  in  the  siege 


I602.J  THE  CONCLUSION.  26S 

EmbMnga  from  Fnme*.  A  oonremtka 

and  defense  of  Continental  cities.  She  receiv- 
ed an  embassage  from  the  court  of  France  with 
great  pomp  and  parade,  and  made  a  grand  prog* 
ress  through  a  part  of  her  dominions,  with  a 
long  train  of  attendants,  to  the  house  of  a  no- 
bleman, where  she  entertained  the  embassador 
many  days  in  magnificent  state,  at  her  own 
expense,  with  plate  and  furniture  brought  from 
her  own  palaces  for  the  purpose.  She  even 
planned  an  interview  between  herself  and  the 
King  of  France,  and  went  to  Dover  to  effect  it. 

But  all  would  not  do.  Nothing  could  drive 
the  thoughts  of  Essex  from  her  mind,  or  dispel 
the  dejection  with  which  the  recollection  of  her 
love  for  him,  and  of  his  unhappy  fate,  oppressed 
her  spirit.  A  year  or  two  passed  away,  but 
time  brought  no  relief.  Sometimes  she  was 
fretful  and  peevish,  and  sometimes  hopelessly 
dejected  and  sad.  She  told  the  French  embas- 
sador one  day  that  she  was  weary  of  her  life, 
and  when  she  attempted  to  speak  of  Essex  at 
the  cause  of  her  grief,  she  sighed  bitterly  and 
ourst  into  tears. 

When  she  recovered  her  composure,  she  to«d 
the  embassador  that  she  had  always  been  un- 
easy about  Essex  while  he  lived,  and,  knowing 
ois  impetuosity  of  spirit  and  his  ambition,  she 


264  <4vBE*  ELIZABETH.          [1602 

Tkoifhti  of  IM«X. 


had  been  afraid  that  he  would  one  day  attempt 
something  which  would  compromise  his  life,  and 
she  had  warned  and  entreated  him  not  to  b«  led 
into  any  snob  designs,  for,  if  he  did  so,  his  fate 
would  have  to  be  decided  by  the  stern  authority 
of  law,  and  not  by  her  own  indulgent  feelings 
but  that  all  her  earnest  warnings  had  been  in- 
sufficient to  save  him. 

It  was  the  same  whenever  any  thing  occurred 
which  recalled  thoughts  of  Essex  to  her  mind  ; 
it  almost  always  brought  tears  to  her  eyes. 
When  Essex  was  commanding  in  Ireland,  it 
will  be  recollected  that  he  had,  on  one  occasion, 
oome  to  a  parley  with  Tyrone,  the  rebel  leader, 
across  the  current  of  a  stream.  An  officer  in 
his  army,  named  Harrington,  had  been  with 
him  on  this  occasion,  and  present,  though  at  a 
little  distance,  during  the  interview.  After  Es- 
sex had  left  Ireland,  another  lord-deputy  had 
been  appointed  ;  but  the  rebellion  continued  to 
give  the  government  a  great  deal  of  trouble. 
The  Spaniards  came  over  to  Tyrone's  assist- 
ance, and  Elizabeth's  mind  was  much  occupied 
with  plans  for  subduing  him.  One  day  Har- 
rington was  at  court  in  the  presence  of  the 
queen,  and  she  asked  him  if  he  had  ever  seen 
Tyrone.  Harrington  replied  that  he  had.  The 


1602.]  THE  CONCLUSION.  265 


n»  OvntoM  of  NottfafhML 


queen  then  recollected  the  former  intenriew 
which  Harrington  had  had  with  him,  and  she 
said,  '  Oh,  now  I  recollect  that  yon  have  seen 
him  before  !"  This  thought  recalled  Essex  so 
forcibly  to  her  mind,  and  filled  her  with  such 
painful  emotions,  that  she  looked  np  to  Har- 
rington with  a  countenance  mil  of  grief:  tears 
came  to  her  eyes,  and  she  beat  her  breast  with 
every  indication  of  extreme  mental  suffering. 

Things  went  on  in  this  way  until  toward  the 
close  of  1602,  when  an  incident  occurred  which 
seemed  to  strike  down  at  once  and  forever  what 
little  strength  and  spirit  the  queen  had  remain- 
ing. The  Countess  of  Nottingham,  a  celebra- 
ted lady  of  the  court,  was  dangerously  sick,  and 
had  sent  for  the  queen  to  come  and  see  her, 
saying  that  she  had  a  communication  to  make 
to  her  majesty  herself,  personally,  which  she 
was  very  anxious  to  make  to  her  before  she 
died  The  queen  went  accordingly  to  see  her. 

When  she  arrived  at  the  bedside  the  count- 
US  showed  her  a  ring.  Elizabeth  immediately 
reoogniied  it  as  the  ring  which  she  had  given 
to  Essex,  and  which  she  had  promised  to  con- 
sider a  special  pledge  of  her  protection,  and 
which  was  to  be  sent  to  her  by  him  whenever 
he  found  himself  in  any  extremity  of  danger 


266  QUEKN  ELIZABETH  [1602 


•eofeoiaa.  The  queen't  todlfB»tto« 


and  distress.  The  queen  eagerly  demanded 
where  it  came  from.  The  countess  replied  thai 
Essex  had  sent  the  ring  to  her  during  his  im- 
prisonment in  the  Tower,  and  after  his  con- 
damnation,  with  an  earnest  request  that  she 
would  deliver  it  to  the  queen  as  the  token  of 
her  promise  of  protection,  and  of  his  own  sup- 
plication for  mercy.  The  countess  added  that 
the  had  intended  to  deliver  the  ring  according 
to  Essex's  request,  but  her  husband,  who  was 
the  unhappy  prisoner's  enemy,  forbade  her  to 
do  it  ;  that  ever  since  the  execution  of  Essex 
•he  had  been  greatly  distressed  at  the  conse- 
quences of  her  having  withheld  the  ring  ;  and 
that  now,  as  she  was  about  to  leave  the  world 
herself,  she  felt  that  she  could  not  die  in  peace 
without  first  seeing  the  queen,  and  acknowl- 
edging fully  what  she  had  done,  and  imploring 
her  forgiveness. 

The  queen  was  thrown  into  a  state  of  ex- 
treme indignation  and  displeasure  by  this  state- 
ment She  reproached  the  dying  countess  in 
the  bitterest  terms,  and  shook  her  as  she  lay 
helpless  in  her  bed,  saying,  "  God  may  forgive 
you  if  he  pleases,  but  /never  will  !"  She  then 
went  away  in  a  rage. 

Her  exasperation,  however,  against  the  count- 


1603.]  THE  CONCLUSION.  307 

Sitter  nTt*™)?**—***  The  quaea  ramoTM  to  BttBMai 


ess  was  Boon  succeeded  by  bursts  of  inconsola- 
ble grief  at  the  recollection  of  the  hopeless  and 
irretrievable  loss  of  the  object  of  her  affection, 
whose  image  the  ring  called  back  so  forcibly  to 
her  mind.  Her  imagination  wandered  in  wretch- 
edness and  despair  to  the  gloomy  dungeon  in 
the  Tower  where  Essex  had  been  confined,  and 
painted  him  pining  there,  day  after  day,  in 
dreadful  suspense  and  anxiety,  waiting  for  her 
to  redeem  the  solemn  pledge  by  which  she  had 
bound  herself  in  giving  him  the  ring.  All  the 
sorrow  which  she  had  felt  at  his  untimely  and 
cruel  fate  was  awakened  afresh,  and  became 
more  poignant  than  ever.  She  made  them 
place  cushions  for  her  upon  the  floor,  in  the 
most  inner  and  secluded  of  her  apartments,  and 
there  she  would  lie  all  the  day  long,  her  hair 
disheveled,  her  dress  neglected,  her  food  refused, 
and  her  mind  a  prey  to  almost  uninterrupted 
anguish  and  grief. 

In  January,  1603,  she  felt  that  she  was 
drawing  toward  her  end,  and  she  decided  to  be 
removed  from  Westminster  to  Richmond,  bo- 
cause  there  was  there  an  arrangement  of  closets 
communicating  with  her  chamber,  in  whiftV 
she  could  easily  and  conveniently  attend  divin 
service.  She  felt  that  she  had  now  done  wit 


268  QUKBH  ELIZABETH.          [1603 

TTlaihrtfc  grow*  worm  Tte  prints  chapel  and  tha  eloMta 

the  world,  and  all  the  relief  and  comfort  which 
•he  oould  find  at  all  from  the  pressure  of  her 
distress  was  in  that  sense  of  protection  and  safe- 
ty which  she  experienced  when  in  the  presence 
•f  God  and  listening  to  the  exercises  of  devotion 
It  was  a  cold  and  stormy  day  in  January 
when  she  went  to  Richmond ;  but,  being  rest- 
lees  and  ill  at  ease,  she  would  not  be  deterred 
by  that  circumstance  from  making  the  journey. 
She  became  worse  after  this  removal.  She 
made  them  put  cushions  again  for  her  upon  the 
floor,  and  she  would  lie  upon  them  all  the  day, 
refusing  to  go  to  her  bed.  There  was  a  com- 
munication from  her  chamber  to  closets  con- 
nected with  a  chapel,  where  she  had  been  ac- 
customed to  sit  and  hear  divine  service.  These 
closets  were  of  the  form  of  small  galleries,  where 
the  queen  and  her  immediate  attendants  oould 
sit.  There  was  one  open  and  public ;  another 
—a  smaller  one— was  private,  with  curtains 
which  oould  be  drawn  before  it,  so  as  to  screen 
those  within  from  the  notice  of  the  congrega- 
tion. The  queen  intended,  first,  to  go  into  the 
great  closet ;  but,  feeling  too  weak  for  this,  she 
changed  her  mind,  and  ordered  the  private  one 
to  be  prepared.  At  last  she  decided  not  to  at- 
tempt to  make  even  this  effort,  but  ordered  the 


1603.J  THB  CONCLUSION.  271 

Tb«  ••iHto|  ring.  tt»  qncra'i  frlead*  abandon  W 

cushions  to  be  put  down  upon  the  floor,  near 
the  entrance,  in  h«r  own  room,  and  she  laj 
there  while  the  prayers  were  read,  listening  to 
the  Toioe  of  the  clergyman  as  it  came  in  to  her 
through  the  open  door. 

One  day  she  asked  them  to  take  off  the  wed- 
ding  ring  with  which  she  had  commemorated 
her  espousal  to  her  kingdom  and  her  people  on 
the  day  of  her  coronation.  The  flesh  had  swoll- 
en around  it  so  that  it  could  not  be  removed. 
The  attendants  procured  an  instrument  and  oat 
it  in  two,  and  so  relieved  the  finger  from  the 
pressure.  The  work  was  done  in  silence  and 
solemnity,  the  queen  herself,  as  well  as  the  at- 
tendants, regarding  it  as  a  symbol  that  the  un- 
ion, of  which  the  ring  had  been  the  pledge,  wa» 
about  to  be  sundered  forever. 

She  sunk  rapidly  day  by  day,  and,  as  it  be- 
came more  and  more  probable  that  she  would 
soon  cease  to  live,  the  nobles  and  statesmen 
who  had  been  attendants  at  her  court  for  so 
mamy  years  withdrew  one  after  another  from 
the  palace,  and  left  London  secretly,  but  with 
eager  dispatch,  to  make  their  way  to  Scotland, 
in  order  to  be  the  first  to  hail  King  James,  the 
moment  they  should  learn  that  Elizabeth  had 
eeaned  to  breathe. 


272  QUBBN   ELIZABETH.          [1603 

fh*  qm*-m  i  Toio*  Ml*.  She  call*  her  conmrtl  together 

Her  being  abandoned  thus  by  these  heartiest 
friends  did  not  escape  the  notice  of  the  dying 
queen.  Though  her  strength  of  body  was  al- 
most gone,  the  soul  was  as  active  and  busy  as 
erer  withir.  its  failing  tenement.  She  watched 
every  thing — noticed  every  thing,  growing  more 
and  more  jealous  and  irritable  just  in  propor- 
tion as  her  situation  became  helpless  and  for- 
.orn.  Every  thing  seemed  to  conspire  to  deep- 
en the  despondency  and  gloom  which  darkened 
her  dying  hours. 

Her  strength  rapidly  declined.  Her  voice 
grew  fainter  and  fainter,  until,  on  the  23d  of 
March,  she  could  no  longer  speak.  In  the  after- 
noon of  that  day  she  aroused  herself  a  little, 
and  contrived  to  make  signs  to  have  her  coun- 
cil called  to  her  bedside.  Those  who  had  not 
gone  to  Scotland  came  They  asked  her  whom 
she  wished  to  have  succeed  her  on  the  throne. 
She  could  not  answer,  but  when  they  named 
King  James  of  Scot  and,  she  made  a  sign  of  as- 
•ent.  After  a  time  the  counselors  went  away. 

At  six  o'clock  in  the  evening  she  made  signs 
for  the  archbishop  and  her  chaplains  to  some  to 
her.  They  were  sent 'for  and  came.  When 
they  came  in,  they  approached  her  bedside  ana 
kneeled.  The  patient  was  lying  upon  her  back 


TFK  CONCLUSION.  273 

T"he  chaplains.  The  prayer* 

•peeohless,  bat  her  eye,  still  moving-  watchfully 
and  observing  every  thing,  showed  that  the  fac- 
ulties of  the  soul  were  unimpaired.  One  of  the 
clergymen  asked  her  questions  respecting  her 
faith.  Of  course,  she  could  not  answer  in  words. 
She  made  signs,  however,  with  her  eyes  and 
her  hands,  which  seemed  to  prove  that  she  had 
full  possession  of  all  her  faculties.  The  by- 
standers looked  on  with  breathless  attention. 
The  aged  bishop,  who  had  asked  the  questions, 
then  began  to  pray  for  her.  He  continued  his 
prayer  a  long  time,  and  then  pronouncing  a 
benediction  upon  her,  he  was  about  to  rise,  but 
she  made  a  sign.  The  bishop  did  not  under- 
stand what  she  meant,  but  a  lady  present  said 
that  she  wished  the  bishop  to  continue  his  de- 
votions. The  bishop,  though  weary  with  kneel- 
ing, continued  his  prayer  half  an  hour  longer. 
He  then  closed  again,  but  she  repeated  the  sign. 
Thd  bishop,  finding  thus  that  his  ministrations 
gave  her  so  much  comfort,  renewed  them  with 
greater  fervency  than  before,  and  continued  hia 
supplications  for  a  long  time— so  long,  that  those 
who  had  been  present  at  the  commencement  of 
the  service  went  away  softly,  one  after  another, 
to  that  when  at  last  the  bishop  retired,  the  queen 

was  left  with  her  nurses  and  her  women  alone 
26—18 


274  QUEER  ELIZABETH.          [1603 

The  queen's  death.  King  Jame*  proclaimed 

These  attendants  remained  at  their  dying  sov- 
ereign's bedside  for  a  few  hours  longer,  watch- 
ing the  failing  pulse,  the  quickened  breathing, 
and  all  the  other  indications  of  approaching  dis- 
solution. As  hour  after  hour  thus  passed  on, 
they  wished  that  their  weary  task  was  done, 
and  that  both  their  patient  and  themselves  were 
at  rest.  This  lasted  till  midnight,  and  then  the 
intelligence  was  communicated  about  the  pal- 
ace that  Elizabeth  was  no  more. 

In  the  mean  time  all  the  roads  to  Scotland 
were  covered,  as  it  were,  with  eager  aspirants 
for  the  favor  of  the  distinguished  personage 
there,  who,  from  the  instant  Elizabeth  ceased 
to  breathe,  became  King  of  England.  They 
Booked  into  Scotland  by  sea  and  by  land,  urg- 
ing theur  way  as  rapidly  as  possible,  each  eager 
to  be  foremost  in  paying  his  homage  to  the  ris- 
ing sun.  The  council  assembled  and  proclaim- 
ed King  James.  Elizabeth  lay  neglected  and 
forgotten.  The  interest  she  had  inspired  was 
awakened  only  by  her  power,  and  that  being 
gone,  nobody  mourned  for  her,  or  lamented  her 
death.  The  attention  of  the  kingdom  was  soon 
universally  absorbed  in  the  plans  for  receiving 
and  proclaiming  the  new  monarch  froM  the 
North,  and  in  anticipations  of  the  splendid  pa 


1603.1 


CONCL,U»IOM. 


272 


Portrait  of  June*  the  First 


Burial  of  the  qiwea 


geantry  which  was  to  signalize  his  taking  hv 
seat  upon  the  English  throne. 


Kiwo  JAKKS  L 


In  due  time  the  body  of  the  deceased  queen 
fras  deposited  with  those  of  its  progenitors,  in 
the  ancient  place  of  sepulture  of  the  English 
kings.  Westminster  Abbey.  Westminster  Ab- 


27(5  UEEN    ELIZ  \BKTH. 


Wertmimter  Abbey.  IU  hlMory 

bey,  in  the  sense  in  which  that  term  is  used  in 
history,  is  not  to  be  oonoeived  of  as  a  building, 
nor  even  as  a  group  of  buildings,  but  rather  an 
a  long  succession  of  buildings  like  a  dynasty, 
following  each  other  in  a  line,  the  various  struc- 
tures having  been  renewed  and  rebuilt  con- 
stantly,  as  parts  or  wholes  decayed,  from  cen- 
tury to  century,  for  twelve  or  fifteen  hundred 
years.  The  spot  received  its  consecration  at  a 
very  early  day.  It  was  then  an  island  formed 
by  the  waters  of  a  little  tributary  to  the 
Thames,  which  has  long  since  entirely  disap- 
peared. Written  records  of  its  sacredness,  and 
of  the  sacred  structures  which  have  occupied  it, 
go  back  more  than  a  thousand  years,  and  be- 
yond that  time  tradition  mounts'  still  further, 
carrying  the  consecration  of  the  spot  almost  to 
the  Christian  era,  by  telling  us  that  the  Apostle 
Peter  himself,  in  his  missionary  wanderings, 
had  a  chapel  or  an  oratory  there. 

The  spot  has  been,  in  all  ages,  the  great  bur* 
ial-place  of  the  English  kings,  whose  monn* 
ments  and  effigies  adorn  its  walls  and  aisles  in 
endless  variety.  A  vast  number,  too,  of  the 
statesmen,  generals,  and  naval  heroes  of  the 
British  empire  have  been  admitted  to  the  hon- 
or of  having  their  remains  deposited  under  Hi 


I603J  THB  CONCLUSIOH.  877 

The  PotU?  Corner.  Henrv  (be  Berenth'i  Chcpel 

marble  floor.  Even  literary  genius  has  a  lit- 
tle corner  assigned  it — the  mighty  aristocracy 
whose  mortal  remains  it  is  the  main  functioD 
of  the  building  to  protect  having  so  far  conde- 
scended toward  intellectual  greatness  as  to  al- 
low to  Milton,  Addison,  and  Shakspeare  mod- 
est monuments  behind  a  door.  The  place  is 
called  the  Poets'  Corner  ;  and  so  famed  and  cel- 
ebrated is  this  vast  edifice  every  where,  that  the 
phrase  by  which  even  this  obscure  and  insig- 
nificant portion  of  it  is  known  is  familiar  to 
every  ear  and  every  tongue  throughout  the 
English  world. 

The  body  of  Elizabeth  was  interred  in  a  part 
of  the  edifice  called  Henry  the  Seventh's  Chap- 
el. The  word  chapel,  in  the  European  sense, 
denotes  ordinarily  a  subordinate  edifice  connect- 
ed with  the  main  body  of  a  church,  and  open- 
ing into  it.  Most  frequently,  in  fact,  a  chapel 
is  a  mere  recess  or  alcove,  separated  from  the 
area  of  the  church  by  a  small  screen  or  gilded 
iron  railing.  In  the  Catholic  churches  these 
chapels  are  ornamented  with  sculptures  and 
paintings,  with  altars  and  crucifixes,  and  other 
«uch  furniture.  Sometimes  they  are  built  ex- 
pressly as  monumental  structures,  in  which 
ease  they  are  often  of  considerable  size,  and  arc 


278  QUEBN  ELIZABETH.  [1603 


ornamented  with  great  magnificence  and  splen- 
dor. This  was  the  case  with  Henry  the  Sev- 
enth's Chapel.  The  whole  building  is,  in  fact, 
his  tomb.  Vast  sums  were  expended  in  th« 
construction  of  it,  the  work  of  which  extended 
through  two  reigns.  It  is  now  one  of  the  most 
attractive  portions  of  the  great  pile  which  it 
adorns.  Elizabeth's,  body  was  deposited  here, 
and  here  her  monument  was  erected. 

It  will  be  recollected  that  James,  who  now 
succeeded  Elizabeth,  was  the  son  of  Mary  Queen 
*f  Scots.  Soon  after  his  accession  to  the  throne, 
he  removed  the  remains  of  his  mother  from  their 
place  of  sepulture  near  the  scene  of  her  execu- 
tion, and  interred  them  in  the  south  aisle  of 
Henry  the  Seventh's  Chapel,  while  the  body 
of  Elizabeth  occupied  the  northern  one.*  He 
placed,  also,  over  Mary's  remains,  a  tomb 
Tory  similar  in  its  plan  and  design  to  that  by 
which  the  memory  of  Elizabeth  was  honored ; 
and  there  the  rival  queens  have  since  reposed 
in  silence  and  peace  under  the  same  paved  floor 
And  though  the  monuments  do  not  materially 

*  Bee  our  history  of  Mary  Queen  of  Scots,  near  the  close 
Aisle*  in  English  Cathedral  churches  are  colonnade*,  at 
•pace*  between  columns  on  an  open  floor,  and  not  passage* 
between  pews,  aa  with  a*.  In  monumental  church**  tike 
Westminster  Abbey  there  are  no  pern 


ELIZABETH'.^  TOMB  IN  WESTMINSTER  ABBKT 


1603.1  THE   CONCLUSION  281 


f  eeting*  of  rUiton.  Summary  of  Elizabeth's  character 

differ  in  their  architectural  forms,  it  is  found 
that  the  visitors  who  go  continually  to  the  spot 
gaze  with  a  brief  though  lively  interest  at  the 
>ne,  while  they  linger  long  and  mournfully  over 
the  other. 

The  character  of  Elizabeth  has  not  generally 
awakened  among  mankind  much  commendation 
or  sympathy.  They  who  censure  or  condemn 
her  should,  however,  reflect  how  very  conspicu- 
ous was  the  stage  on  which  she  acted,  and  how 
minutely  all  her  faults  have  been  paraded  to 
the  world.  That  she  deserved  the  reproaches 
which  have  been  so  freely  cast  upon  her  mem- 
ory can  not  be  denied.  It  will  moderate,  how- 
ever, any  tendency  to  censoriousness  in  our 
mode  of  uttering  them,  if  we  consider  to  how 
little  advantage  we  should  ourselves  appear,  if 
all  the  words  of  fretfulness  and  irritability  which 
we  have  ever  spoken,  all  our  insincerity  and 
double-dealing,  our  selfishness,  our  pride,  oui 
petty  resentments,  our  caprice,  and  our  count* 
less  follies,  were  exposed  as  fully  to  the  public 
gaze  as  were  those  of  this  renowned  and  glori- 
ous, but  unhappy  queen. 

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